


Wrecked

by shadowsfan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beach Sex, Colonial era AU, Courtship, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, He's kind of still married, How does one court a lady on a deserted island anyway?, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of awkward encounters, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pirates?, She's kind of still engaged, Slow Burn, Stranded on a deserted island, The Lord's Kiss, Unplanned Pregnancy, sex and sand, sword swallowing, typical Stannis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2019-10-29 15:39:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 91,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17810765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsfan/pseuds/shadowsfan
Summary: Captain Stannis Baratheon and Lady Sansa Stark are shipwrecked on a deserted island.  How long should they wait to be rescued before giving in to their mutual attraction?  Stannis would probably wait forever, but fortunately Sansa has other ideas.





	1. Setting Sail

**Author's Note:**

> I'm breaking my own rule and starting to post this before it's finished, but I've got a good handle on where it's going so hopefully I won't keep you waiting too long. The first ten chapters are done anyway - and i'm not sure how long this will be yet. It's mostly Stannis and Sansa alone, but other characters will make appearances and/or are talked about but they are minor - just saying.
> 
> This is not a survival story - so hopefully you can suspend some disbelief at what it would actually take to survive alone on an island and just enjoy the romance - which is what it's all about! (although I did google some things and was amazed at what one could do). Also it is a slow burn but will eventually earn the rating I gave it. I hope you like it!

 

Sansa Stark could not control the tiny internal tremors setting her heart and stomach aflutter as she and her mother made their way across the crowded dock toward the massive sailing ship, the Fury.  Her insides were a jumble of anxiety and excitement. She had been looking forward to this day for months and it was finally here! The two women would set sail on the ship that would take them from King’s Landing to Sothoryos.  There, they would be reunited with her father and brother again, and soon after, Sansa would be wed to her handsome fiance, Joffrey Baratheon. It had been nearly two years since she had seen him last, a lifetime it seemed. 

 

Six months earlier, father and Robb had sailed ahead to help with the trading company that Uncle Robert had established on the northern coast of the far away continent.  Robert Baratheon wasn’t really her uncle, but he was father’s best friend and he insisted that Ned’s children call him that. It seemed silly now, at her age, but she had reason to humor him.  Soon, she would call him her father by marriage. The thought of her wedding made her stomach clench even more, a feeling that she assumed every expectant bride must endure. She forgot all about it as soon as they reached the ship.

 

Boarding the enormous schooner, sails billowing in the breeze, Sansa’s attention was immediately drawn to the tall officer standing at the top of the gang plank.  Her first thought was that the dour looking Captain Baratheon bore little resemblance to his brother. They shared the same dark hair color, but while Robert Baratheon had a thick mane, Stannis’ hair was cropped shorter than the fashion, and appeared to be thinning on top, though it was difficult to tell with his impressive, feathered, captain’s hat covering his head.  Robert had a full beard, while Stannis was clean shaven. Admittedly, Stannis did have a jaw that was as straight as chiseled marble, which may have been considered attractive if he hadn’t been scowling the entire time. While Robert always greeted her with a friendly smile and a kiss on the cheek, Stannis barely mumbled a brief  _ welcome aboard _ to Sansa and Catelyn before returning to his duties.  

 

Before Sansa could remark on the difference between the two men, Catelyn quietly explained that Stannis had always been standoffish like that, probably because he had to compete with Robert his entire life, but that he was the finest captain in the fleet, which was why Robert had entrusted them unto his care.  Sansa could understand that at least. Nobody could compete with Uncle Robert, what with his financial successes and his larger than life personality, though that still did not excuse his brother’s lack of manners.

 

After Captain Baratheon’s perfunctory greeting, the steward escorted the ladies to their quarters below deck.  Sansa’s face fell when she saw the austere and cramped conditions that they would find themselves in for the next few weeks.  

 

“Don’t wrinkle your nose like that, young lady,” scolded her mother.  “We’re lucky to have a cabin at all. Think of all the poor passengers who are less fortunate, forced to sleep on the deck or wherever they can find room!”

 

Sansa felt a twinge of guilt.  Catelyn was right. The Fury wasn’t a regular passenger ship, it was a military vessel.  Uncle Robert had explained that this was a special charter that he’d arranged for them and a few dozen others.  She wasn’t expecting luxurious accommodations. At least she had her essentials in her valise, which had been delivered to their tiny cabin.  Unfortunately, the remainder of their luggage was stowed in the hold with the rest of the cargo and she would have to do without the majority of her wardrobe until they reached their destination.  She opened her bag and took out her ivory-handled comb and her silver mirror ─ her most prized possessions. She attempted to corral the long strands of hair that the wind had sent into disarray, despite her bonnet.

 

“Mother, can’t I have the suitcase with my new dress so that I might be presentable at the captain’s table tonight?”  Sansa pleaded.

 

It wasn’t as if she needed to impress the rude Captain Baratheon, but there were many handsome young officers aboard the Fury and she wanted to look her best.

 

“You  _ are _ presentable Sansa,” Catelyn replied with a bemused expression.  “You look lovely. You don’t need to parade about in your finest clothes on a month long voyage at sea.  Save them for the balls you will surely be attending in Sothoryos.”

 

“Do you think there will be many parties?” Sansa asked hopefully, her smile betraying her excitement.

 

“If I know Robert, and I do, the answer is yes.  Robert Baratheon is nothing if not extravagant,” she replied, frowning slightly.

 

“What’s the matter, mother?” 

 

Sansa knew that her mother had never approved of Robert’s excesses, his drinking and rumored dalliances with disreputable women, but surely he had been good to their family and soon the Baratheon and Stark families would be joined through marriage.

 

“Sothoryos is still untamed.  Even though there is an established colony, populated mostly by Westerosi citizens, I don’t want you to get your hopes up.  It will not be anything like King’s Landing. Your life with Joffrey will be difficult there.”

 

Sansa hated when her mother’s Tully practicality cast a shadow over her dreams of a sunny future.  Of course she knew it would be hard at first, but Joffrey was Robert’s son, and he would see to it that they had all the comforts befitting a young couple of their social status.  It wasn’t as if they’d be living in jungle huts!

 

“Father wouldn’t send for us if it weren’t for the best,” Sansa countered, knowing that this was the one truth that her mother couldn’t fault.  

 

“I suppose so,” Catelyn agreed with a sigh and continued putting away her things.

 

“Mother,” Sansa asked, still thinking about her pre-wedding anxiety.  “Is it true that you and father didn’t know each other very well before you were married?”

 

Catelyn raised an eyebrow.  “You know it’s true, you’ve heard me tell it many times.  What is it that you want to know? This is about you and Joffrey isn’t it?”

 

Sansa inwardly cursed herself for thinking she could get an answer from her mother without being interrogated in return.  She may as well be honest or she’d never hear the end of it.

 

“How did you know that it was love?  When did you know?”

 

Catelyn smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she contemplated her answer.

 

“Love takes time, it doesn’t happen overnight.  Though I suppose I did know on my wedding night that your father was special.  He didn’t rush, or force himself on me as some men might have done.”

 

“Mother!”  Sansa’s mouth flew open, her cheeks flashing hot with embarrassment at Catelyn’s unexpected candor.

 

“Don’t act so modest,” Catelyn chuckled.  “We’ve had out talk about what to expect. This is important.  Your father was gentle and you should expect no less from Joffrey.”

 

Sansa nodded.  “I know, I mean I won’t,” she replied quickly.

 

Ready to put an end to any serious conversation, she changed the subject.  “May I go up on deck? I want to watch as we put out to sea!”

 

Catelyn studied Sansa’s face for a moment, and then satisfied that she’d answered her questions, she wrapped an arm around her and gave her a brief hug.  

 

“Of course you can.  I’ll come with you. Just take care and stay out of the sailors’ way.”

 

~~~

 

As they took their positions beside the other passengers along the ship’s rail, Sansa was fascinated by the movement of the sailors across the deck and aloft.  Each one rushed to perform a task, coiling rope or trimming sails as the officers in their colorful uniforms barked orders. Once again, her eyes found the stern, Captain Baratheon, as he stood on an upper deck surveying the crew with a hawk-like gaze.  She was surprised that he didn’t shout like the others, but conveyed his orders calmly to the officers who stood at attention beside him. His scowl was so fearsome that Sansa was glad that she wasn’t a man in his service. Studying him, she tried to decide once again if he might be handsome if only his expression were less sour.  She suddenly wondered if he were married and if so, how a wife could stand living with such a sullen, obviously unhappy man. She was probably grateful when he went away to sea for years at a time, Sansa thought, stifling a giggle which came out as a soft snort and earned a curious look from her mother.

 

She learned the answer to that question, and more about the Captain that night at dinner.  Due to their social status, Sansa and her mother were invited to dine at the captain’s table in the officer’s quarters located in the stern of the ship.  Sansa was pleased to find that the junior officers were more well-mannered than their captain, bowing to the ladies and helping them to their seats. Captain Baratheon arrived late and merely offered a curt nod.  

 

“Good evening, Stannis.”  Catelyn began the conversation by ignoring protocol and addressing the Captain by his given name, since she’d known him for years, though not as well as Robert.  “Thank you for inviting us to dine with you. We are most grateful for your hospitality and that of your men.”

 

Stannis appeared startled and a bit put off by her expression of gratitude.

 

“It is customary Lady Stark.  I could hardly have allowed you to dine with the other passengers.”

 

_ Uncle Robert would hardly have allowed it _ , Sansa thought.  She was irritated by the Captain’s tone, when she and her mother were trying so hard to be courteous, but chose to hold her tongue.

 

“It has been a good many years since I’ve had the pleasure of your company,” Catelyn replied coolly.  “Tell me, how is Selyse these days?”

 

Sansa watched Stannis closely.  Catelyn had explained earlier that Stannis did have a wife, but the rumor was theirs was an unhappy marriage.

 

Stannis’ eyes narrowed and his face darkened.  He cleared his throat before answering. 

 

“I presume she is well.  I haven’t seen her in some months since she entered the convent at Oldtown.”

 

An uncomfortable silence followed as the junior officers feigned sudden interest in their food; all except the second mate, Massey, who looked as if he wanted to laugh but dared not.  Sansa had been right after all, his wife had preferred the cloistered life to that of living with the Captain! She might have felt pity for him if he’d displayed even an ounce of regret.

 

“As this is my first voyage, I wonder what you gentlemen would recommend for entertainment on such a long journey at sea?” Sansa asked of no one in particular, delicately changing the subject.  

 

She could tell instantly by the way the Captain stiffened in his chair that she’d said something wrong.

 

“Miss Stark,” Captain Baratheon snapped, shooting her a disapproving look.  “My officers and I have no time for parlor games when there is so much work to be done.  We are responsible for the safety of every passenger aboard this ship. If you find ocean travel to be so tedious, I suggest you make yourself useful and help with the cooking or laundering.”

 

Sansa’s cheeks reddened, partly from embarrassment and partly from anger.  She was offended by his condescending tone. She had been trying to spare the Captain from the awkward question about his wife, but instead of being appreciative he behaved even more rudely than before.  She felt her mother’s hand touch her arm, but she wasn’t going to be silenced this time.

 

“Perhaps you have no interests other than ships, Captain, but this isn’t a prison galleon.  Surely, your officers are allowed  _ some _ free time.”  She tried to keep her tone light, but the tightness in her throat made the words sound strained.

 

“My officers spend what little free time they are given, writing letters to their families or reading, Miss Stark.  Now if you ladies will excuse me, I must return to my duties.” 

 

He stood abruptly, his officers standing in unison with him as protocol dictated.  Captain Baratheon nodded once again in lieu of a proper bow, leaving the table with his supper barely touched.

 

Sansa fumed in silence, hardly listening as her mother struck up a conversation with the officers, as they returned to their seats.  Stannis Baratheon was the most ill mannered man she’d ever encountered! How on earth would she bear his rudeness for an entire month?  Already it seemed as if they’d been at sea for weeks instead of only a day. They would be forced to dine together, there was no other choice.  She would simply have to make the best of it. With little enthusiasm, she offered a weak smile to her dinner companions who seemed eager to return to safer topics, such as the weather.

 

~~~

 

Stannis stood watch at the bow, oblivious to the warm summer breeze caressing his face.  He stared into the night sky, its thousands of stars twinkling like diamonds, but he took no notice.  The men didn’t need him here, they had the ship under full sail according to his orders, and all was well.  He was here because he craved the salt air, and some private time for reflection. He was still seething from his exchange with the pampered Miss Sansa Stark and her mother.  He didn’t know which was more embarrassing, admitting in front of his men that his wife had left him, or forgetting his manners and being openly rude to the two women. His momentary loss of civility was inexcusable and he knew it.  Robert was certain to get an earful about his boorish brother, of that he was certain. This was all Robert’s fault, of that he was also certain. 

 

Stannis was an officer in the royal navy.  He had been commissioned to captain the Fury, to provide escort to a supply convoy across the Summer Sea to Essos, as there had been several incidents of piracy in the area.  Instead, only days before setting sail, he was ordered to abandon that mission. His new assignment was to transport supplies and a few passengers to a settlement in Sothoryos.  Robert’s letter arrived shortly thereafter, and Stannis realized that it was his doing ─ with his powerful connections and his business dealings.  _ Oh, and while you’re at it brother, take good care of Ned’s wife and my future daughter-in-law or there will be seven hells to pay _ .  Those weren’t his exact words, but Stannis could imagine his tone.  Didn’t he realize the danger? Pirates? Weather? Disease? This was a military ship, not a floating hotel for society ladies!

 

To make matters worse, Miss Stark appeared to be just as spoiled as he’d feared, asking about entertainment as if her amusement was of any importance.  He shouldn’t be surprised, any woman who would willingly marry Joffrey was a fool. He almost felt sorry for her, but then again she might be well aware of what she was doing.  Maybe she was simply in it for the money. A woman as beautiful as Sansa Stark could have her pick of eligible suitors. Why would she choose one with a reputation for treating women, and everyone else for that matter, indecently?  No wonder Robert had taken Joffrey to Sothoryos; one step ahead of the law no doubt. On the other hand, Miss Stark was quite young, and perhaps more naive than he’d assumed. Might Robert have kept the truth about Joffrey from her and the Stark family?  Could his own rivalry with Robert have tainted his opinion of Sansa Stark? He hadn’t laid eyes on her since she was a child, and knew nothing whatsoever of her personality.

 

Stannis shook his head and forced himself to look at the stars ─ the glorious navigational chart stretching before him in the heavens.  There was no use complaining about it now that they were underway, there was no turning back. This mission was his, and he would carry it out.  He would be relieved when the Fury docked in Sothoryos and he could discharge the Stark women into Robert’s care. Only then could he exchange his duties as glorified nursemaid for those of a captain of the royal navy.

 


	2. Stormy Seas

 

The first days at sea passed more quickly than Sansa had dared to hope.  Somehow she had been able to avoid Captain Baratheon for the most part. She found that if she stayed away from the bridge during her morning walk on deck, and spent most of her time in her cabin sewing or reading, she barely saw him at all.  It seemed that the Captain was trying to steer clear of her as well. Every night since that first night, he had found some excuse, some pressing duty, that kept him away at suppertime. He would send his regrets and allow his officers to keep company with the Stark women.  Sansa should have been pleased, but she found his behavior somewhat vexing. She knew that men found her attractive, and she had to admit that she did enjoy the attention at times. She took care to dress and act with sufficient modesty, but a smile or a well-timed glance, usually prompted a man’s interest.  After all, asserting her charm was harmless enough as long as she didn’t lead a man on. She wasn’t used to any man ignoring her completely, and even worse, being rude before even getting to know her. Stannis Baratheon wasn’t like any man she’d ever met, and though she tried not to care, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

 

After a time, curiosity got the better of her, and rather than trying to avoid the captain, Sansa found herself trying to catch his attention.  She tried to make her morning walks coincide with his routine inspections of the ship. On the times she was able to force an encounter, she would offer her warmest smile, and a cheerful greeting.  Captain Baratheon appeared immune to her charms, however, and merely returned her greeting with a simple,  _ Good day Miss Stark _ , and a tip of his hat.  Therefore, it was a surprise when one morning he actually stopped to talk.

 

“I hope you aren’t finding the voyage too tedious.  There isn’t much to occupy one’s time at sea I’m afraid, unless one is a sailor with a long list of daily duties.”

 

Sansa nearly fell over from shock.  The Captain’s tone was actually pleasant!  Wondering what had brought about this sudden change in him, she nearly forgot to answer, but soon realized he was waiting for her response.

 

“Not at all, Captain.  I have been keeping myself busy reading, among other things.  Mr. Massey lent me a book from the ship’s library on the flora and fauna of Sothoryos, which is quite fascinating.  Thank you for asking.”

 

The look he gave her was one of surprise and approval, the lines around his mouth disappearing with the loss of his usual scowl.  She ought to have been offended that he seemed to consider her to be a spoiled child, but instead she felt an unexpected surge of warmth as his eyes continued to study her face for several moments before he spoke.

 

“Very well, Miss Stark.  I bid you Good Day.”

 

With a tip of his hat he was gone, leaving Sansa to contemplate why two minutes of conversation had left her feeling so flustered.  Why did she find this strange, unsociable man so fascinating? She thought she might figure it out if she learned more about him. Therefore, she was disappointed when Captain Baratheon sent his excuses once again, and did not dine with them that evening.  Nor did she encounter him the next morning on her walk. It seemed that the Captain was avoiding her once more. Or was it simply her imagination? Although it was frustrating, she vowed to stop thinking about a man who clearly did not find her worthy of his time.  It didn’t matter anyway, once they reached Sothoryos she would likely never see him again.

 

More than a fortnight at sea had passed, and time began to drag.  Sansa had become bored with the monotony of it all. While she enjoyed the freedom of not having many chores to do, and the ability to move about the ship as she pleased, the routine of each day, the sameness was wearing on her.  During the first week, there had been the occasional passing ship. The Fury would drop sail to allow for a boat to row over to it, and the officers would exchange mail and news. But now, halfway through their voyage and past the crowded shipping lanes, there were no other ships to been seen, no distant land, no birds, nothing but water.  They had left the known world behind, and Sansa felt a kind of isolation that she’d never experienced growing up in the bustling town of Winterfell. She didn’t like feeling lonely in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t wait for this journey to be over.

 

One night, there was a change, but not one that Sansa would have wished for.  The swells had been growing all day. Though the difference was subtle, Sansa could feel the ship tilt upwards at a steeper angle when it climbed a wave and tremble more soundly when it came down hard off the crest.  Some of the other passengers had become seasick. Catelyn, who had always taken an interest in herbs and medicines and had acted as a midwife on occasion, lent a hand when the ship’s doctor became overwhelmed. Sansa found herself alone at the captain’s table for supper, and was told that Captain Baratheon had ordered the officers on deck.  Not that she could have eaten much anyway, with the ship beginning to toss so violently. She decided to go on deck to see for herself what was happening and how long this was expected to continue. She was mildly concerned, but not too much so. Uncle Robert had warned them that they might run into a summer squall this time of year but not to worry.  The Fury was the sturdiest ship in the fleet, he’d assured them.

 

Below deck had been uncomfortable, but Sansa found when she ventured above that the situation was much worse than she’d imagined.  The wind was incessant, whipping her long hair into her eyes and forming a net across her face. The sky was as black as tar, but the occasional spiderweb burst of lightning revealed an ominous wall of clouds in the distance.  The ship pitched forward, knocking her off balance so she had to wrap her arms around the rail to keep her feet.

 

“Miss Stark!  What are you doing out here?!”

 

Between her tangled hair and the salty sea spray in her eyes she could barely see, but she recognized Captain Baratheon’s shout above the rush of the wind.  In a moment he was by her side, taking her arm to steady her balance.

 

“There is a great storm approaching.  I’ve ordered all passengers to remain in their cabins or below decks!”

 

Despite his obvious concern for her safety, his manner triggered Sansa’s irritation once more.  How was she supposed to know what was going on when no one had bothered to tell her?

 

“You may call me,  _ Lady _ Stark, Captain.  I’m a grown woman about to be wed to your nephew,” Sansa snapped, sounding petulant at a time like this, even to her ears.

 

“Very well,  _ Lady Stark _ ,” the Captain growled.  “Please go below so I don’t have to send a rescue boat to fish you out of the sea when you fall overboard!”

 

“You needn’t shout, Captain,” Sansa replied with mock sweetness.  “I heard you the first time, even above the wind. I’m sure the storm will pass soon.  Uncle Robert says the Fury can weather any tropical squall that the heavens bring forth.”

 

She saw Stannis’ jaw flex and she could have sworn he was grinding his teeth.  

 

“Robert isn’t a sea captain, and he never saw a storm such as this one, not even at Storm’s End,”  he replied, his expression grave.

 

His words gave her a chill, despite her belief that he was only trying to scare her.  It gave her some satisfaction at least, to think that she had irritated him just a little, as she turned and made her way back to her cabin.

 

Once there, to her dismay, she found that Catelyn had still not returned.  She wondered what was keeping her, though she knew that with the rising storm, more and more passengers would be getting sick.  She tried not to feel sorry for herself, alone in her room while the ship tossed about, but she couldn’t help it. She tried reading, but it was no use with the storm raging outside.  Finally, she closed her eyes and tried to block it out by burying her head in her pillow. Robert said they would be safe on the Fury and she believed him. Stannis was just jealous of his brother and was trying to shake her faith in him.  The storm would pass soon, or surely they would sail out of its path. 

 

~~~

 

Sansa must have dozed off, because some time later she woke to find the cabin in darkness, the oil lamp near her bedside having fallen to the floor and gone out. She heard it rolling around and clattering against the furniture, along with other sorts of loose belongings that had been sent flying.  While she slept, the storm had grown worse ─ much worse. The rolling of the ship was so pronounced it made her stomach heave.

 

“Mother?!” she called out, only to be answered by the sound of the ship’s timbers groaning in protest against the violence of the wind and waves.  

 

Sansa’s growing anxiety made her heart race.  Catelyn was still gone! Surely she would have returned to check on her daughter by now.  The ship bottomed out in a trough and it jarred Sansa so that she nearly fell from her bed.  She pushed herself to her feet and was immediately flung against the wall. Hands pressed against the wood, she felt her way blindly toward the door.  Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she knew that she must keep her wits about her. She had only one thought, and that was to find her mother! Catelyn would know what to do.

 

Sansa stumbled through water and debris over to the steep wooden stairs that led to the upper deck and was immediately drenched by an unexpected wave of water that cascaded down upon her, a combination of rain and sea.  Her sodden skirts clinging to her legs, Sansa fought her way up top, only to find the deck flooded. Men were illuminated by flashes of lightning as they struggled desperately to keep the ship heading into the wind. Sansa knew that if they failed, the Fury could be hit broadside by one of the deadly waves and rolled.  Sailors bowed into the roaring wind, clinging to anything that was fixed to the ship to keep themselves from being swept overboard, their shouts lost in the din of the storm. Sansa was terrified, nearly paralyzed by fear, but she had to keep moving. She had to make her way toward the stern to find her mother. Catelyn was certain to be there, attending to the other passengers.

 

The wind made it nearly impossible to stand upright, much less walk anywhere.  Sansa tried to make herself less accessible to the wind that threatened to pluck her from the deck and fling her into the waves below.  She bent at the waist, nearly doubling over as the sideways rain pricked her skin like a thousand tiny pins. She took a step, then another, clutching the slippery rail for her lifeline.  The sky lit up for a brief moment and she saw an officer about twenty yards ahead, clutching the rail and reaching out a hand for her. She thought it was Captain Baratheon but she couldn’t be sure.  His mouth was open as he shouted something she couldn’t hear. He might as well be a mile away. 

 

Sansa tried to inch closer to him, when there was a mighty crack, louder than anything she’d ever heard before.  She felt it as much as heard it, a sickening shriek of splintering wood, and the ship began to list badly to one side, sending her careening toward the turbulent sea.  Later, when it was all over, she would understand that one of the masts had broken off, but at that moment she only knew that something terrible had happened. 

 

Sansa screamed in panic though she knew that no one could hear her or help her if they did.  She would have gone over the side then, but a tangle of heavy rope and sail pinned her against the rail, half in and half out of the ship.  She tried to untangle herself but the wind and rain conspired to make everything she touched too slippery for her fingers to gain purchase. She screamed again for help, but it was cut off when a giant wave crashed over the listing Fury, sweeping the broken mast and sail from the deck and into the sea ─ the rope dragging her overboard with it! 

 

Hitting the water knocked the breath from Sansa, and when she gasped for air, her lungs sucked in nothing but water.  She choked and sputtered and waited for the inevitable moment when she would be pulled beneath the surface and feel nothing as she perished in the depths of the ocean.  Only that moment didn’t come. Though the waves were enormous mountains of water that lifted her up and tossed her back down, she found she could breathe. Somehow the mass of rope and sail that twisted around her was floating on the surface and not sinking, like some massive canvas raft.  

 

Sansa didn’t know how long her luck, if she could call it that, would hold.  She forced her hands to move and feel about for a way to escape. She couldn’t begin to think what she would do after that, but if she remained tangled up, she knew she would eventually drown.  Fortunately, the water swirling about her seemed to have loosened the rope, stretching it out and allowing her to twist and wriggle herself free. 

 

She was certain that she had improved her situation until the moment she tried to swim away from the mass of debris.  One attempted kick and she sank like a stone, her sodden skirts encasing her legs like a peas in a pod.  _ Seven hells _ !  This was hopeless.  Her clothing was restricting her movement and weighing her down.  She had traded one snare for another. Her dress might become her death shroud!  Sansa spread her arms and gave a mighty push, paddling hard to thrust herself back toward the surface.  She moved her legs, locked together as one, as best she could, as if she were some absurd mermaid. 

 

Her head burst from the water long enough to gather a much needed breath, but the strain on her arms was brutal.  Although Ned Stark had taught all of his children to be strong swimmers, Sansa would not be able to keep herself above water under these conditions much longer, but if she stopped swimming to attempt to unlace her dress, she would sink again.  She had to try ─ there was no other way.

 

Sansa took a last deep breath and reached for her waist, her fingers struggling to find the ties and pins that fastened her dress.  She immediately sank below the surface, but found if she bent over, it slowed her descent. She spun and twisted as she worked, unable to control her movement as the waves carried her up and down as they rose and fell.  She felt the garment around her loosen as she undid one tie, and then another. With one last firm pull and a kick, she was free! Her voluminous dress fell away and she was left in a single thin chemise that allowed her limbs to move more easily.  

 

Sansa began to kick hard, her lungs burning for lack of air, but spinning around in the dark depths had left her hopelessly disoriented.  Was she swimming toward the surface and salvation, or down toward oblivion? She had no idea.  _ Think Sansa.  You must think _ !  She heard a voice in her head that she recognized as her mother’s.  She must be delirious. Surely it couldn’t be Catelyn, but still the voice gave her hope.  

 

Sansa stopped moving and forced her mind to block out the pain in her chest and concentrate.  The water temperature was slightly cooler at her feet than her head. That meant that she was heading to the surface because the deeper water would be cooler.  She didn’t hesitate, but kicked with all her might, reaching up with her arms and pulling them down in long firm strokes. She couldn’t last much longer without air.  Up and up she swam, but the surface seemed miles away. She thought she saw a flash of light. Lightning maybe, but how far? 

 

Her limbs grew heavy with fatigue and her mind screamed at her to take a breath, though she knew she would surely drown if she did.  It was hopeless. She realized it now. Even if she reached the surface there was no one to save her. She would drown eventually. She should just give up now and be at peace.  It would be so easy to do. She let her arms go slack and relaxed, letting the waves carry her. It felt wonderful. She was no longer afraid. Soon it would all be over. Her thoughts began to drift.  She saw her mother’s face, and then her father’s, and she smiled.

 

Suddenly Sansa felt something wrap around her torso and cling to her tightly, pulling her upward.  A pair of strong arms or some mythical sea creature? She didn’t have the will to figure it out, or to care.  Sansa attempted to move, but she was too weak and on the very edge of consciousness. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but maybe it was the Stranger, escorting her home.  After that thought, she was aware of nothing as darkness enveloped her like the sea.

 

~~~

  
  


Stannis huddled in the bottom of the boat, holding Sansa Stark with one arm and clinging to the wooden seat with the other.  There was so much water in the bottom that if he didn’t hold her head up, she would surely drown, but if he let go of the seat they might be swept from the boat.  As it was, he didn’t know if she would make it. He didn’t know if either of them would make it. He’d given up trying to steer the small wooden craft long ago. He feared that the rudder had broken off completely, as the violent waves catapulted them upward and plunged them back down, breaking over the sides and flooding them with water.  The oars were useless as well. They were slowly sinking and at the mercy of the wind and currents. The only thing he could do was to keep them from being flung into the sea as the little boat rocked wildly, and hope they weren’t overturned or dashed to pieces by a rogue wave.

 

At least he could see now.  The gray light of dawn, and the slowly weakening storm allowed him to scan the horizon as they reached the crest of a wave.  He did not see the Fury, but he did not see a debris field either. Had she sunk or had she survived to limp back to safety? He gave it even odds.  No matter, she would be in no position to rescue them. The wind and waves had carried them far away by now. Were they heading northeast toward the Summer Isles or northwest toward the Narrow Sea?  Perhaps south toward the islands off Sothoryos? He had no way of knowing, unless they survived long enough for the weather to provide him a clear night and a look at the stars. 

 

Despite his stubborn nature, Stannis had to admit that it was unlikely they would survive that long.  He had no compass, no tools save for his small knife, no provisions, nothing. He had cut loose the rescue boat as soon as he’d seen Sansa dragged overboard, and had jumped in to try and save her.  There was no time to alert anyone. He’d acted on instinct and it had been a foolish move. He’d been damned lucky to reach her, but now they would likely both die at sea. 

 

Stannis pulled her up higher, adjusting her position so her head was nestled securely in his lap, and gently brushed the hair from her face.  He felt her cheek. Her skin was cool and pale, not a good sign. Still, he found her disturbingly lovely, despite her parched lips and tangled mass of red hair.  Some unexpected emotion tugged at his heart. It didn’t seem fair that a woman so young, beautiful, and spirited as Sansa Stark should perish like this. He felt guilty because he now believed that his harsh judgement of her had been based on his anger toward Robert and was most likely unwarranted.  He felt guilty because Robert had entrusted him with her care and he had failed. He should have been able to outrun the storm. He should have seen to it that she was locked in her quarters. Lightheaded from fatigue, Stannis allowed his head to rest against the seat at his back. As he drifted into an exhausted sleep, he vowed that Sansa Stark would live if it were at all within his power to make it so.

 


	3. The Island

 

Sansa was warm and comfortable, snug in her bed.  All she wanted to do was sleep, but she kept hearing her father ─ at least it sounded like her father ─ yelling at her to wake up.  She was going to be late for her lessons and Maester Luwin musn’t be kept waiting. Then she felt something cool and wet dripping on her face─ 

 

“Lady Stark, wake up!  It’s raining!”

 

“Captain Baratheon?”  

 

She was now certain that this new voice was his, but for the life of her Sansa couldn’t decipher where she was, or how she’d come to be here with the Captain.  Sansa’s eyes were heavy, but she forced them to open, only to have her vision blurred by raindrops flowing off her lashes.

 

“Open your mouth.  You need the water.”

 

Sansa turned her head.  She saw sand and lots of it.  It was in her hair, and stuck to her skin.  She was on a beach? She tried to sit up, but the land moved beneath her, like the sea, or at least it felt like she was moving. 

 

Masculine fingers gently touched her cheek.

 

“Don’t try to get up, just open your mouth and catch the rain.  It won’t last long.”

 

She closed her eyes to block out the dizziness and did as she was told.  The feel of cool drops bathing her tongue was the most refreshing sensation she’d ever experienced.  It was heaven! She let her mouth fill with the life-saving liquid and swallowed in small sips, as the rain poured down, washing over her face and hair.  She never wanted it to end.

 

The Captain was right though, the shower didn’t last long, blowing over them in a couple of minutes.  It wasn’t nearly enough to slake her thirst, but it did revive her for the moment. She sat up and this time didn’t feel as if she were about to faint, or vomit ─  for the bitter taste in her mouth, and queasy feeling in her stomach alerted her to the fact that she had probably done so recently.

 

“How do you feel?  Are you injured?” She heard the concern in his voice as she took stock of herself.

 

Her limbs ached from overuse, obviously from all the swimming she’d done.  She was wet and chilled, despite the warm breeze, and her skin puckered from far too many hours bathed in salt water.  She had a few scrapes and bruises of unknown origin, but all in all she was relatively intact. She knew that it was silly, but she couldn’t help but think about how disheveled she must look, her long hair an impossible, tangled mess, and only her dirty chemise to cover her.  Sand seemed to coat her all over, and just the thought of it made her itch. What she wouldn’t give for a comb and a change of clothes! She supposed that Captain Baratheon wouldn’t want to hear any complaints though, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

 

“I’m alright,” she replied, looking at her surroundings more carefully.  

 

The beach they were on rimmed a small lagoon.  Out to sea, she saw waves crashing against a rocky barrier reef, and a rather dense jungle loomed behind them.   There was no sign of any people at all. She saw that what was left of a longboat washed up some distance down the beach.  It appeared damaged beyond repair. Had the boat carried them here? She looked to the Captain, who was rising to his feet.  He had the same scattering of bruises and scrapes as she did, but seemed to have no major injuries. She noticed that he looked disheveled as well, his blouse open at the chest and the sleeves torn in places.  He was barefoot like her, having lost his boots and hose to the sea. He swiped at the sand that covered his breeches, his eyes scanning the gloom of the jungle.

 

“How?”  Sansa had so many questions, but her voice came out like the crackle of paper from her still dry throat and she couldn’t say more.

 

He cleared his throat before attempting to answer, obviously as parched as she.

 

“I was making my way toward you on the Fury, when the mast gave way and I saw you dragged overboard.  I put in a rescue boat. What’s left of it lies over there,” he pointed toward the remains of the boat she had wondered about.  “It was only luck that you surfaced near the debris, or I never would have found you in the darkness,” he explained slowly. “It was my fault.  I should have seen to your safety─”

 

“No!” she cried sharply, silencing him.  She was alive! She was struggling to grasp the enormity of what he’d done.  Stannis Baratheon had risked his life to save her. She remembered now, his strong arms encircling her as she was drowning.  The man she’d thought of as cold and unfeeling hadn’t hesitated for a second. She studied his face closely, and noticed for the first time that his eyes were the same color as the sea.  She decided at last that she quite liked his features when he wasn’t scowling. Maybe she had misjudged him, as she knew that he must have misjudged her.

 

“You mustn’t blame yourself.  I should have stayed in my cabin.”

 

Stannis seemed to return to his former self at that, straightening his back and frowning.

 

“Yes, you should have done,” he agreed.  “No matter. We must not dwell on how we got here, but consider what we need to do to survive.”

 

Sansa didn’t allow his abrupt manner to irritate her this time.  She sensed that it was his way of coping when he was feeling vulnerable, and they were alike in that respect.  She allowed him to take her arm when she struggled to rise. To her embarrassment she realized that the thin cloth of her damp chemise was clinging to her skin, providing a much too revealing outline of her breasts and stomach.  The Captain must have noticed too, for he averted his eyes and turned away as she quickly crossed her arms over her chest. Hopefully, the warm sun and steady breeze would soon dry their clothes, but this was the least of their problems.

 

“Surely the Fury will search for us as soon as repairs are made,” Sansa offered hopefully.

 

Stannis frowned.

 

“The Fury may be at the bottom of the sea.”

 

Sansa made a small cry of dismay.  She knew that there was a chance that her mother might have perished, but to hear the words aloud was too much.

 

“There is a good probability there will be survivors,” Stannis added hastily.  “We survived. There is also a chance that the Fury was badly damaged and she will have to make for the nearest port for repairs.  Either way, there will be no search party for weeks ─ if ever. We are most likely presumed drowned.”

 

Stannis’ dismissal of any future rescue attempts touched a nerve with Sansa.  Why must he be so negative? __ Was their situation really so hopeless?

 

“If mother is alive she will never stop looking for me!” she argued, tears welling in her eyes.  “Neither will Father or Uncle Robert! They will search for us. I know it!”

 

Stannis remained silent, as if reluctant to be the bearer of more bad news.  His tone was softer when he finally spoke.

 

“Be that as it may.  They won’t know where to look.  The storm blew us miles off course and I’m not sure how long we were adrift in the boat before we landed here.  I’m not telling you this to cause you to despair, only to make you understand our predicament. We must save ourselves and not depend on someone finding us.”

 

Sansa nodded but his words did not make her feel any better.  She might never see her family again. She wanted to cry but she was so parched that no more tears would come.

 

“What do we do now?” She asked as he started to walk away.  “Where are you going?”

 

The fear that Sansa had felt when she was washed overboard had returned.  Captain Baratheon looked as if he were about to leave her, and she had no desire to be left alone in this strange place.

 

“I’m going to do a thorough search of our immediate surroundings.  We need to find sources for food and water, and make shelter. Tomorrow I’ll begin to scout more of the island.”

 

How could he have a plan already?  Instead of feeling reassured, for some reason Sansa found his sudden practicality annoying.  She had only just begun to accept their situation. Her emotions were a confusing whirl of relief, fear and sadness.  She needed a moment, but obviously Captain Duty wasn’t about to grant even a brief rest.

 

“I’m coming with you,” she insisted, tired of being denied any choice over her own fate.

 

“No you will not,” Stannis commanded, giving her the full measure of his authoritative bearing.  “It isn’t safe.”

 

“How do you know?  I don’t see anyone here, and I’ll be with you,” Sansa argued.

 

“There may be wild animals, or dangerous terrain.  I absolutely forbid it,” he snapped.

 

_ He forbids it does he? _  Although his tone sent blood rushing to her cheeks, Sansa resisted the temptation to react with anger.  She wasn’t one of his sailors, and he wasn’t her father, so she knew that she had no obligation to obey him.  On the other hand, he was being much more civil to her now than he had on the Fury and she had no desire to return to their former hostilities.  Also, he had just saved her life, so she could hardly find too much fault in him. If only he would listen to her and stop acting like such a typical man!

 

As Sansa saw it, there were two ways to handle this, one involved making a superior argument, the other was the only foolproof method she knew to get a man to do what she wanted.  She chose the foolproof method. Stannis might be a captain, but he was a man after all. Flirting hadn’t worked on him before, but this was a different situation. Perhaps if she gave it her best effort.

 

Casting her eyes downward, and forcing her lower lip out ever so slightly, she touched his arm.

 

“But I’m afraid to stay here alone,” she said in a tiny, trembling voice.  “After everything we’ve been through, I feel much safer when I’m with you.”

 

She tried to summon tears, but was still too dry.  Her vulnerable eyes and demeanor would have to do. She tried to make her lip quiver ever so slightly but she didn’t want to overdo it and make Stannis suspicious.

 

“Yes, I know but─”  Stannis began, his voice instantly losing its edge.  It was a good sign.

 

Sansa met his gaze, her eyes pleading with him to give in to her wishes.  His stern look faded and indecision took its place. He wasn’t so different from other men in this respect.  She knew she had won when his jaw clenched and he began grinding his teeth. 

 

“─oh, very well then,” he sighed at last. “You may come with me, but be ready to follow my orders at the first hint of danger!”

 

_ Aye Captain _ , she wanted to reply, but made do with a timid, “Yes, Sir.”

 

Did he still think of her as a spoiled, helpless child?  She’d survived being swept overboard in a storm, being adrift at sea, and crashing on a remote island.  Hadn’t she proved her metal yet?

 

Captain Baratheon led the way to where the beach ended and the island vegetation began.  Sansa immediately forgot her frustration with him, her natural sense of wonder taking over.  This was an undiscovered place that no one had ever seen, with birds and plants and animals that she’d only read about in books!  The thought of exploring such a place filled her with excitement and a bit of fear, but she wasn’t about to let Stannis Baratheon know that she was afraid.  She moved ahead of him. As she was entering into the jungle, the Captain held out a warning hand to stop her.

 

“Be careful where you step.  There are roots and plants which may cut your feet.”

 

Sansa looked down and remembered that they were both barefoot, having been forced to shed most of their bulky clothing to swim.  He was right, it hadn’t been an issue until now, because the sandy beach provided soft footing.

 

Sansa nodded and they carefully proceeded into the shade cast by the thick canopy of trees.  She was immediately struck by the change in temperature. She had expected it to be cooler in the shade, but while it was a relief to be out of the direct rays of the sun, she discovered that it was even hotter here, sheltered from the ocean breeze and enclosed in the humid sauna created by the dense vegetation.  Soon they were both drenched in sweat. Sansa wiped her forehead with her arm, but a new sheen of perspiration appeared instantly, dripping down her face and stinging her eyes. Then there were the bugs, whining past her ears and hovering in clouds that they had to swat their way through. She knew her skin would show red marks from where she slapped at the ones that tried to bite.

 

Their progress was slow, since there was no path and they had to pick their way through waist-high ferns and around thickets of prickly plants that Sansa didn’t have a name for.  They were surrounded by the whistles and hoots of birds, and occasionally Sansa saw a flash of color above them as they fled their perches to get away from the strange intruders. The Captain took out his knife, making a notch in a tree branch here and there in order to mark their path.  They spoke little, except when Stannis would point out a certain tangle of vines, or a pile of fallen branches that they might make use of to build a shelter.

 

Sansa had no idea how far they’d gone, though it surely had been less than a mile, when they stumbled, quite literally, over a crude path.  Sansa’s foot caught in a groove between two walls of dried mud and she nearly fell. Captain Baratheon turned in time, and caught her before she twisted her ankle or worse.  She clasped onto his arm for support for a second and their eyes met. Sansa felt her stomach flutter, and suddenly she didn’t mind his overprotectiveness so much. Captain Baratheon was a strong man.  She could feel the reassuring firmness of his muscular forearm within her grasp, and she felt safe with him near, despite the disturbingly unfamiliar surroundings. Before she could process the feeling, he let go and squatted to examine the ground.

 

“Animal trail,” he explained.

 

“What sort of animals live here?” Sansa asked warily.

 

Stannis studied the tracks.

 

“Boar, most likely.  We’ll follow it, since they usually lead to water, but be ready to run if we see any sign of them.  Wild boar can be deadly.”

 

Sansa nodded but secretly wondered if the Captain might be able to kill one.   The cramping and rumbling of her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in some time.

 

The going was easier, walking along a path, but fatigue was beginning to set in.  Sansa felt herself slowing down, wishing they could rest. How much farther did the Captain intend to go?  After they’d traveled another quarter of a mile, Stannis stopped abruptly. Sansa’s head jerked up, looking around frantically.  Had he seen a boar?

 

“Listen,” Captain Baratheon said softly.  “Do you hear that?”

 

Sansa calmed a little, realizing there was no immediate danger.  She concentrated on the sounds around her, but heard nothing in particular, save maybe a whispering of wind in the distance.   _ No, it wasn’t wind─ _

 

“Water!”  Stannis exclaimed, finishing her thought. Then, as if sensing how tired she was, he added, “Keep going, just a little farther.”

 

He needn’t have worried, for as soon as Sansa realized that the sound was made by running water, a surge of energy drove her to walk faster.  Nearly mad with thirst, she wanted to run, but Stannis moved forward cautiously, watching for any sign of danger as the rushing sound grew louder.  At last they emerged from the canopy into a clearing and Sansa gasped, hardly daring to believe what she saw. Before them was a waterfall, rushing down a steep green mountain, and cascading over a ledge into a clear pool.  The sun shone brightly above, and caught the spray off the water reflecting small rainbows of color. It looked like paradise! Finally, they could drink and bathe and cool down. Sansa laughed out loud and threw herself into the pool with a splash.

 

“Wait!”

 

She heard the Captain shout but she didn’t care.  Why must he be so ridiculously practical at all times?  The water wasn’t exactly cold but it felt cool and refreshing on her hot, sweaty body.  She found that she could stand, although the stones at the bottom were slippery beneath her feet.  The water was about waist high near the edge and seemed to get deeper toward the waterfall. She cupped handfuls of water, drinking as much as she could.

 

“Please, Lady Stark!” She heard Stannis shout again, trying to get her attention.  “We don’t know if the water is safe to drink!”

 

Sansa turned to face him, incredulous that after all they had been through he would try and put a damper on her joy. 

 

“Of course it is!  It’s water from a mountain stream.  Animals come here to drink, we followed their trail.  It tastes delicious and it feels magnificent!”

 

She watched as he stood on the edge of the pool, hesitating, his eyes darting around the perimeter indecisively until she could stand it no longer.

 

“Stop being so stuffy and come in!” She demanded, using both limbs to scoop up an armful of water and send it splashing into his face.   

 

Captain Baratheon looked stunned, water dripping down his face and body, his mouth falling open in mute surprise.  Sansa covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh too hard. She didn’t know what had got into her but she wasn’t a bit sorry.  She backed slowly into deeper water, waiting for him to get angry and tell her off, but to her surprise his lips began to quiver and then turn upward into a smile.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he warned before diving into the pool next to her and splashing her in return as he surfaced at her side.  “I’m only being cautious,” he added, wiping the water from his eyes.

 

Sansa couldn’t believe the transformation.  When Stannis smiled, he was actually handsome!  She felt the flutter again, deep in her core. Was she beginning to find the Captain attractive? The thought of it didn’t disturb her as much as it would have only a few days ago.  It was probably only the rush of excitement at finding this oasis, but she was too thrilled to stop to think much about it.

 

“Well,  _ I’m _ only trying to be happy for a moment!”  She laughed again and started swimming toward the waterfall, her feet kicking another spray of water into his face. 

 

“Be careful!” she heard him call after her, but she didn’t turn back.  

 

She closed the twenty yards to the cascading water quickly.  The steady stream threw up a misty spray as it hit the pool and Sansa was surprised by how powerful the shower of water was, and how much cooler it was coming directly from the source.  It was glorious, being under the cleansing stream, and she let it wash over her, scooping mouthfuls to drink until she was entirely refreshed. On the inner side of the waterfall, Sansa saw that the pool flowed into a murky cave.  She had no desire to explore there, and instead she swam to the surrounding ledge of rock and pulled herself up to relax and dry off. She smoothed her long, wet hair away from her face, wishing again for her comb. She would have to see what she could do about managing a more practical style.

 

She watched the Captain follow her path, hoisting himself onto the rock beside her, water dripping from his blouse and breeches. She found herself studying him more closely for a moment, noticing his lean muscular frame, how his forearms and calves flexed as he pulled himself onto the rock, and the smattering of damp dark hair on his chest and legs.  She’d thought him a much older man aboard the Fury, probably because he acted like one, but now she realized from his strength and agility that he was not that old at all. No older than her father anyway. She looked away quickly, before he noticed her staring.

 

“Lady Stark,” Stannis began testily, alerting Sansa to the fact that he did not approve of her disobeying his commands.  “You must stop venturing out so boldly on your own. There could be any manner of danger─”

 

Suddenly he cut short what he was going to say, causing Sansa to turn toward him expectantly.  His expression changed from one of irritation to one that she couldn’t decipher. He stopped looking at her and began staring pointedly at the water in front of them.  

 

“We should be getting back now.  I need to construct a shelter before nightfall,” he said, his voice strangely thick.

 

Sansa wondered what she had done to avoid his lecture.  She had been leaning back on her elbows, stretching out under the warm sun, and hadn’t even offered a hint of defiance.  She glanced at her body and suddenly it struck her like a bolt of lightning. Her wet chemise was clinging tightly to her body, once again clearly displaying her breasts and nipples as it had done earlier on the beach, only even more so due to her reclining position.  Stannis must have noticed too, how could he not? She sat up and immediately brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. She experienced a desperate urge to crawl under the nearest rock and hide.

 

“I want to stay here a little longer,” she heard herself say, wishing to avoid Stannis until her clothes dried. 

 

To her surprise, the Captain didn’t argue.

 

“You should be safe here for the time being.  I’ll see if I can find something to serve as a vessel to carry water and maybe something to eat.  I will return in a couple of hours,” he abruptly replied.

 

He quickly pushed himself off the ledge and into the water, as if in a rush to be away from her.   However, before swimming for the the other side of the pool, he imparted one last order. 

 

“Don’t go anywhere alone.  Stay here until I return!”

 

Sansa watched him depart with a mixture of relief and regret.

 


	4. The Basics

 

Stannis made his way back through the jungle toward the beach, carefully following the animal trail until it connected with his original marked path.  He should have been more diligent in looking for items that would be useful for their survival, but he had too much on his mind. He was filled with a mixture of relief and guilt, mostly guilt.  He had needed to be away from Sansa urgently, but he also didn’t feel right leaving her alone. He genuinely believed that she would be safe until his return, or he wouldn’t have gone. He had to sort out what had got into him while they were sitting beside the waterfall.  He had suddenly become  _ aware _ of her in a way that he had not before, and his body had responded accordingly, despite his best efforts to distract himself.

 

Yes, Sansa was beautiful.  When he had first seen her, he’d taken note of that fact in the way he would take note of any beautiful woman, as merely an observation of pleasing physical appearance.  When he’d interacted with Sansa on the ship, he’d seen her beauty and he’d experienced what he had presumed to be a haughty sense of entitlement. He wasn’t attracted to her.  

 

Then, he’d been responsible for her after the storm and worried that she might not survive.  Admittedly, he’d been forced to reassess his original impression of her. During their time together in the lifeboat, he’d realized that she had shown resilience in surviving such a traumatic mishap.  Suddenly, she didn’t seem quite so annoying, or childish. His estimation of her as a spoiled social climber had been incorrect, he was certain of that now. He was willing to give her another chance. Only a few hours ago, he’d seen her vulnerable and starkly beautiful in her underclothes ─ yet he had managed  _ not _ to stare.  He had respected her as a woman in his care, as Joffrey’s fiance, as Ned Stark’s daughter.  Sansa was all of these things. He was  _ not _ attracted to her.  

 

They had been together all morning, and although she could still be irritating in her disobedience to his orders, which she didn’t seem to understand were issued entirely for her own safety, she’d shown bravery which he respected.  Sometimes it was coupled with a lack of caution, but her bravery was admirable nonetheless. He was  _ not _ attracted to her.  Until the waterfall.  Sansa had emerged from the pool with her chemise clinging to her body, leaving nothing whatsoever to the imagination, and he had instantly found himself attracted to her!

 

He was trying to behave as a gentleman would, but he had been unable to stop staring at her for far longer than was appropriate, the image of her searing into his mind.  Her thimble-sized nipples protruded from her full, perfectly rounded, breasts, and for an instant he had imagined them filling his hands. He’d quickly averted his eyes from her chest, only to find his gaze lingering over her flat stomach, down to the flare of her hips, and her long supple thighs, which were slightly parted, hinting at that most secret place between them.  Although she was covered in white cloth, Sansa Stark couldn’t have been more sensuous if she’d been completely nude.

 

To his dismay, his body had responded like that of an adolescent who had never laid eyes upon a naked woman before.  He’d had to make his excuses and return to the water before Sansa had become aware of his embarrassing state of arousal.   _ Surely she wasn’t aware! _ _ No, an innocent girl like Sansa wouldn’t be at all familiar with a grown man’s anatomy _ .  He relaxed a little at that.  

 

Sansa was most likely oblivious to his reaction to her unintentional display of femininity.  So at least there was no harm done. Furthermore, his sudden burst of lust was most likely caused by the emotion of the moment, and not by any illicit feelings toward Sansa.  They had discovered a source of water, which assured their temporary survival. The idealistic setting of the waterfall, the lush green mountain and the pool below, was stunning.  He and Sansa had been overcome with excitement, with happiness. He had lowered his guard and given himself over to the moment. He had allowed himself to relax and behave as her companion instead of her guardian.  It wasn’t as if he’d been indulging in inappropriate fantasies, or had groped her, or done anything improper. He was responsible for her protection, and that was a sacred duty. He would not allow himself to lose control again.

 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Satisfied with his summation of the situation, Stannis continued his trek, more observant now that his mind was more at ease.  He must conclude his mission quickly and return to Sansa as soon as possible. He only hoped that she wouldn’t allow her headstrong nature to get her into any trouble while he was away.

 

~~~

  
  


From the position of the sun, Sansa concluded that over an hour had passed before her clothing was completely dry.  She’d made good use of the time, continuing to drink from the fresh water pool at her leisure, which seemed like the ultimate luxury after her ordeal at sea.  The water filled her empty stomach for awhile, but it wasn’t long until the growling sounds and pangs reminding her of her extreme hunger returned with a vengeance.  She wondered how long Stannis was going to be, and if he would bring food with him on his return. She started to study her surroundings more closely, distracted from the beautiful setting by the demands of her stomach.  Surely there must be something she could eat! But all the plants that her gaze landed on were exotic and unfamiliar.

 

She moved away from the waterfall closer to where the mountain sloped into the jungle and suddenly spotted a bright yellow color in contrast to the green of the leaves in some nearby trees.  She immediately recognized the elongated fruits from the book she’d been reading aboard the Fury. They were called bananas, which she remembered distinctly because she’d actually eaten one before!  The soft, sweet fruits were a rare delicacy she’d observed on a visit to the markets at King’s Landing once, imported by the merchants who traveled to the Sothyron islands. Old Nan, who was born in Southyros, had pointed them out, and immediately purchased some for the Starks to try.  Sansa remembered that they were quite tasty! From her vantage point, they looked like a gift from the Seven, especially when she hadn’t eaten in days. But, how to reach them? They grew in bunches, high up in the trees which appeared impossible to climb. 

 

She could wait for Stannis to return.  He would know what to do. Her stomach let loose another vigorous growl. She gazed longingly at the fruit, located maddeningly out of her reach.  As she began to take stock of the number of trees that contained the yellow fruit in her immediate surroundings, her eyes landed on a tree located quite close to an outcropping of rock a few yards farther up the mountain from where she stood.  If only she could climb up, she was pretty certain she could reach the bunch growing on the outermost branch. Suddenly she heard that inner voice in her head that sounded oddly like her mother’s ─ the one she’d heard before when she was drowning.   _ Well, what’s stopping you girl? _  What  _ was _ stopping her?  She used to climb rocks and trees with Robb when they were younger, was it so different now just because she was a lady?  There were no Lords or Ladies on this island, only she and the Captain, and right now he wasn’t around.

 

Sansa pushed any nagging doubts about not acting like a proper lady aside, and began the climb up the rocks to reach the low hanging branch.  When she came to a particularly steep section, she realized that her long skirt was restricting her motion. It was not only making her task nearly impossible, but dangerous as well.  She’d need to shorten it somehow. After her earlier embarrassment with Stannis, she didn’t want to imagine the awkward reaction he’d have to her actually baring her legs, but there was no use thinking about it now.  She was so close to her goal, and besides, wouldn’t he be happy that she’d managed to provide something to eat for the both of them? 

 

She climbed back down from the ledge and searched the area for something with which to trim her chemise.  She settled on a sharp stone. The material was thin enough, and with a little experimenting on a flat slab near the waterfall, she was able to remove a few inches from the bottom.  She saved the cloth which was sure to come in handy for other purposes. Sansa looked down at the crude results of her work, jagged and uneven but functional. She still felt a little strange about it, but it was a decision that had to be made.  Her attire was inappropriate already, but it wasn’t as if she were going to be attending a dress ball on the island. If she were to move around efficiently, she would have to sacrifice some modesty. When faced with starvation, she wasn’t going to wait for Stannis’ approval.

 

Once again she attempted the climb up the rock formation.  This time, she was able to move her legs well enough to manage the steeper steps.  Most of the fruit was too high up for her to reach, and the trees were too tall to climb, but the rocks got her close enough, and she returned with an armful of ripe bananas.  She ate greedily, yet sparingly, so as not to become ill, and also to save some for Stannis. There was still no sign of his return, but she wasn’t scared being by herself in this beautiful place. There had been no sign of dangerous animals, or other inhabitants.  She was actually quite pleased with her accomplishments while Stannis was away, and hoped he’d be happy as well when he got back.

 

After eating and washing up, Sansa turned her attention to her hair.  Maybe now with the extra strips of cloth she could do something about putting it up and out of her face.  She sat in the shade near the waterfall and set to work. With her hunger and thirst sated for the moment, Sansa’s thoughts drifted again to what had happened before Stannis had departed so suddenly.  She was still trying to figure out what had caused his surprising reaction and to make sense of her own feelings about it. Stannis taking notice of her unintentionally revealing attire hadn’t just been another embarrassing incident, as had happened once on the beach.  This time had felt different. Stannis could have merely looked away like a gentleman, shrugged it off as an awkward moment and continued on. He was a grown man. Surely he’d witnessed a woman in a revealing state of dress before. Instead, he had practically fled from her presence.  Why? 

 

She thought again about the way he’d looked at her before he’d jumped back into the pool.  There was guilt written on his face, which was the natural reaction of a man observing something he knew he should not, but there had been more than that.  There was a strange intensity in his gaze and now that she’d had time to think, she remembered when she had seen a man look at a woman that way before. It was when she’d caught her brother Robb staring at her best friend, Jeyne, at the harvest ball.  Jeyne had been wearing the latest Dornish fashion, the beautiful silk dress that had shown a bit more of her shoulders and cleavage than the high-collared ball gowns favored in Winterfell. Robb had been entranced, and when Sansa had teased him about it, he’d told her to mind her own business and had hurried away much like Stannis had done.  Robb had eventually courted Jeyne and asked for her hand in marriage.

 

Had the strange look Stannis had given her been one of desire?  Of course it was. She’d known it all along, she just wasn’t ready to deal with what it might mean after all that had happened to her already.  In that moment, Captain Baratheon had wanted her in that way that proper ladies weren’t supposed to think about, but secretly did. Sansa was surprised when she felt a giddy rush of excitement not unlike the one she’d experienced when she’d seen the waterfall.  Apparently her body didn’t find the idea of Stannis Baratheon lusting after her the least bit disturbing! 

 

She immediately scolded herself for acting like a foolish schoolgirl.  Why on earth was she suddenly allowing herself to entertain such scandalous thoughts?  She was engaged to be married! She shouldn’t be at all pleased that another man, especially one who mostly treated her like one of his sailors, might be attracted to her.  Might be. What if she had misread his reaction? It was a big leap to assume from a single heated glance that Stannis wanted her in  _ that  _ way, or that he had even thought about it for more than a second.  Moreover, just because the Captain had rescued her, and she’d noticed how tall and muscular he was, did not mean that she was attracted to him!  She was grateful, that’s all. 

 

Yes, she liked it when men found her attractive, but it wouldn’t do when the two of them were stranded together on this island to begin entertaining thoughts of a romantic relationship.  She must put that out of her mind at once. These thoughts of the Captain were probably just another manifestation of her pre-wedding anxiety. Nothing would come of it. Anyway, they would be too busy surviving and trying to figure out a way to be rescued to think of anything else.  Surely they would be rescued within a few weeks, at most. Then she could be married as planned. She vowed not to think of it again. Captain Baratheon was a gentleman, even though he could be rude at times, and he would never act on any feelings of attraction he might have towards her.  That was the end of it. She took a deep breath and felt confident that they could move past this simply by letting it go. 

 

~~~

 

Stannis emerged from the jungle canopy and was relieved to find Sansa right where he’d left her, sitting on a ledge of rock beside the waterfall.  He’d left her alone much longer than he’d intended. The shadows were growing longer and he knew they’d have to hurry if they were to make it back to the beach safely.  It wouldn’t do for them to be caught on the trail at dusk when most animals made their way to water. He carefully stepped over the slippery rocks surrounding the pool and finally reached her when he stopped dead in his tracks trying to make sense of what he was seeing.  

 

Somehow, Sansa had altered her appearance drastically from when he’d last seen her.  Her hair no longer flowed down her back in a tangled mane. She had managed to fix it up in some sort of fashionable braided bun, with an exotic white and purple flower tucked behind one ear.  Furthermore, her legs ─  _ her legs _ were practically bare!  Where her long chemise had once covered her from shoulder to ankle, it was now substantially shorter, exposing her shapely legs, and shapely did not do them justice, up to her knees.  If she were beautiful before, suddenly Stannis was confronted with a veritable vision that left him gaping like someone who’d seen an angel. He’d just vowed not to give in to his attraction to her, and now this!

 

If that weren’t enough to rattle Stannis’ senses, she was eating something, an elongated fruit he’d seen before, called a banana.   _ Where the seven hells had she managed to find those? _  The way she was sitting there innocently eating the strangely shaped food drew Stannis’ attention to her mouth, and he couldn’t keep himself from recalling an act he’d observed once while extracting one of his sailors from a Bravossi brothel, a place he had strictly forbidden his men from frequenting.  Overwhelmed by guilt, a sudden explosion of heat pulsed from his core throughout his body, making his temples throb. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose trying to snuff out the image.

 

“Captain Baratheon, you’ve returned at last,” Sansa greeted him, her smile and the excitement in her voice informing him that she was only teasing about being kept waiting longer than she expected.  She was utterly oblivious to the effect her appearance was having on him. “Look, I found something to eat. Have one, I saved some for you! What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

 

“I’m fine.  I- I thought I told you not to move while I was away,” he managed, his mouth suddenly as dry as it had been before they’d found water.

 

“You told me not to go anywhere,” Sansa laughed, staring at him curiously.  “You didn’t tell me not to move. That would be impossible. I found these in that tree over there and remembered seeing the same fruits in a market in King’s Landing, so I knew they were good to eat.”

 

Sansa handed him a banana, which he took without question, trying to look anywhere but directly at her.   _ Pull yourself together man, she thinks you’ve had a heat stroke the way you’re gawking at her! _  Stannis averted his eyes, feigning sudden interest in the surrounding trees.

 

“You’ve changed your hair.”  He stated, not knowing how to continue without making even more of a fool of himself.  Surely a woman’s bare calves shouldn’t have such a profound effect on a grown man.

 

“My hair?” Sansa’s fingers touched the flower near her right temple.  “You mean this? I found it growing near the pond. Isn’t it lovely? The scent is divine.  Here, smell.” 

 

She leaned into him and Stannis realized that she expected him to put his face mere inches from hers in order to smell that tropical flower.  His heart skipped a beat. He could hardly refuse or she would know that something was wrong.  _ Be calm, don’t stare.   _ At least her clothing was dry and he wasn’t being accosted by the detailed outline of her breasts.

 

Luckily, Sansa turned her head to position the flower under his nose so he wasn’t forced to gaze into those mesmerizing green eyes of hers.  He gave a brief sniff and quickly pulled away. He had to admit the scent was captivating, subtlly sweet and faintly spicy. He knew instantly that he would always associate that scent with her.  

 

“There isn’t much I can do without a comb, as far as hair style, but it feels much cooler with it up,”  Sansa continued.

 

Stannis couldn’t find fault with her wanting to wear her hair in a more comfortable style, although revealing the delicate contour of her neck was proving to be nearly as distracting as her legs.  Nearly.

 

“What about your attire?” he gestured with a wave of his hand and glanced pointedly at her feet so that she knew what he meant.  It was bad enough having to worry about seeing her in wet clothing, now he would be confronted with her bare legs every time he looked at her.  What was she thinking revealing them like that?

 

Sansa appeared a bit flustered by his question.  She cast her eyes downward. 

 

“I couldn’t very well climb over rocks and up trees with my skirt catching around my ankles, so I found a sharp stone and cut it off.  I used that flat rock over there as a cutting table. I’m sure you’ll agree that it was a practical choice.”

 

“Yes, yes, of course.”  Stannis nodded and quickly took another bite of banana, not wishing to think about Sansa taking off her chemise to trim it and what he might have seen had he returned earlier.  He couldn’t argue with her logic and he was ashamed for questioning her motives. Besides, deep down he knew that he found her new look utterly captivating, it was his own self-restraint that worried him.  “We must both make sacrifices if we are to survive,” he added distractedly. 

 

_ What was it that had been so urgent a moment ago? _  It was extremely annoying that he was unable to think clearly all of a sudden.  It must be hunger. He took another bite of the fruit, which was overly sweet for his taste, and forced himself to focus.

 

Clearing his throat, he steered the conversation back to the matter at hand.

 

“Thank you for the bananas Lady Stark, your resourcefulness is to be commended.”

 

He hesitated a moment, tossing aside the peel before continuing.  They needed to get back to camp. Yes, that was why he’d been in a hurry a moment ago.  He’d actually made good progress at providing them with food and shelter while he was away.

 

“I also found some food, which we can share when we return to camp.  It seems there are enough resources on this island to sustain us temporarily.  Now, let us hurry because we must get back before nightfall.”

 

“I was hoping that we might make camp here, by the waterfall.  Do we have to return to the beach?” Sansa asked.

 

“It will be safer there.  The animals in this area will come to water here at dusk, and we’ve no proper shelter.” Stannis replied, regretting that he had to disappoint her.  “I’ll make a thorough evaluation of where to establish a more permanent camp tomorrow. For tonight, the beach will be our temporary sleeping quarters.”

 

“All right then, if we must.”  Sansa gathered up the scraps of cloth from her skirt and several bananas to take with them.  

 

While she was doing that, Stannis stood by, wondering whether he should offer her his arm as they made their way back across the rocks.  Normally, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but there was nothing normal about this situation. At the moment, the thought of touching Sansa was sending all sorts of warning flags waving in his mind.  How was a gentleman supposed to behave when trapped on an island with a beautiful, scantily clad woman? 

 

He had never imagined himself to be in a predicament such as this, and obviously had no experience or training on which to draw.  In the end, he decided that she could manage on her own as she had proved perfectly capable earlier. He would have his arms free in case he needed to defend them in some way, so it made sense.  When she indicated she was ready, he led the way into the jungle.

 

~~~

 

To Sansa, it seemed that the distance from the waterfall to the beach was much shorter returning than it had been when they’d started out that morning.  That was probably because this time she knew where she was going, and also because the growing darkness had them walking more quickly. Still, the trek gave her plenty of time, way too much time really, to stare at Stannis’ back and wondering again why she had never noticed how broad his shoulders were before, or how tall he actually was ─ much taller than Joffrey.  She immediately regretted the comparison. Joffrey was her betrothed, it wasn’t proper to allow herself to be distracted by careless thoughts about his uncle. Then again, what was she to do when she might never return to Joffrey? 

 

No, she mustn’t think that way, it was bad luck!  It was so hard not to think about the uncertainty of their situation.  She wanted to ask Stannis once again about their chances of being rescued, but she decided against it.  He was so depressingly honest that she feared his answer would upset her, and it had been a good day. Although she’d been happy for the time alone to reflect, right now she was glad of his company and eager to learn what he had found for them to eat.  Bananas were tasty, but her stomach was craving something more substantial.

 

As if reading her thoughts, Stannis broke the silence between them.

 

“While I was exploring near the beach, I found a nest with some bird’s eggs.  We can eat those and some coconuts, which I found to be plentiful ─ are you familiar with them?”

 

“Oh yes, I tasted one at the market in King’s Landing when I tried the banana.  They are dreadfully difficult to open as I remember.”

 

“Yes they are.  I managed to open one by smashing it against a rock and using my knife.”

 

“We can use their oil to make soap!” Sansa added, suddenly remembering something else that Old Nan had taught her as a girl.  It would be so wonderful to have a proper bath! “If only we had a pot to boil it in,” she added, deflating a little from the reality of the situation.

 

“You know how to make soap?”  Stannis asked, his voice rising in surprise.

 

“You needn’t sound so astonished,” Sansa teased. She knew he hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded.  To his mind, it probably was an unusual skill for a lady to know. “I have a few useful skills too. I know how to sew as well.”

 

“I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t─ of course you do.  Please forgive me.”

 

“I forgive you,” Sansa replied, secretly astounded that she’d actually heard the Captain apologize.  Those words were music to her ears. “My nanny was from Sothoryos. She’s the one who taught me about bananas and coconuts, she and the book I read.  Her stories were part of the reason I was so excited about living there.”

 

Just then, they emerged from the trees onto the beach and Sansa forgot all about what she’d been saying.  She was immediately struck by how much Captain Baratheon had accomplished while he’d been away from her.

 

“You built a fire!” She exclaimed, hurrying past Stannis toward the flaming pit.

 

“Well of course,” he sniffed, minimizing what Sansa considered a miraculous accomplishment.  “How else would we cook the eggs?”

 

“And a hut!”  Sansa turned to face the small shelter he had constructed out of wood and palm leaves.  It had a back but was open on three sides. It was small, but they would have a roof over their heads if it rained.  

 

_ They. _  Sansa’s stomach suddenly clenched.  “We are to sleep here?” 

 

She hadn’t considered that they would sleep next to each other, under the same roof!  Of course they would; Stannis hardly had enough time to build separate shelters. Although they had been alone together for quite some time now, this seemed like a big step.  Maybe because surviving another hour wasn’t the only thing that occupied her thoughts now that they had been provided with the basic necessities for life. Now, her thoughts were dominated with the appropriateness of sharing a bed, albeit a mat of leaves, with a man she was trying hard not to find attractive.

 

Stannis must have noticed her hesitation.

 

“Yes.  I thought it safer if we stayed together.  Of course I’ll be standing watch for most of the night.  I’ll construct a larger shelter for us later,” he explained, the words coming in a rush as if he too felt it awkward for the two of them to share such close quarters.

 

“I’ll take a turn on watch,” Sansa insisted, feeling silly for making Stannis uncomfortable after all he had done for her.  The rules of society were of no importance in this place, and in this desperate situation. Why was she concerned about the appearance of their sleeping arrangements?

 

“Absolutely not,” Stannis protested, drawing himself up like a soldier coming to attention.  “It is my duty as Captain, and besides, you’re a─”

 

He stopped short as Sansa raised an eyebrow and interrupted.  “I’m a lady?” She finished the sentence for him. “Why can’t a woman stand watch?  Besides, you can’t possibly stay awake all day and all night.”

 

Stannis seemed to think it best not to argue with her, or maybe he just couldn’t decide what to say.  He opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it again. Sansa took it as a sign that she had won.

 

“Furthermore,” she added, pressing her advantage.  “Must we continue to be so formal? Since we are both stuck here for who knows how long, it would probably be best if we started calling each other by our given names.  We aren’t on a ship and it feels odd to call you, Captain.”

 

She tilted her head slightly and offered him an easy smile, perhaps it was a bit flirtatious but then she really wanted him to agree.  “After all, we’re in this together; aren’t we Stannis?”

 

Stannis nodded mutely, wearing a slightly stricken expression, as if she’d asked him to jump into the ocean and swim for help instead of asking him to treat her as an equal.  After a moment’s hesitation he seemed to recover his senses and answered.

 

“Yes, I suppose we are ─ Sansa.”

 


	5. Getting to Know You

 

Stannis awoke with a start from a sound sleep.  He had been reluctant to hand the watch over to Sansa when the moon was at its zenith.  Even though they had agreed, it didn’t feel right, expecting a woman to perform the duty of an officer of the crown, but he was exhausted from the hard work of the previous day, and she’d been right about him needing to get some rest.  Still, at least an hour before dawn, anxiety got the best of him and his conscience woke him. The mat beside him was empty. Was something wrong? He bolted upright, his heart pounding, and immediately breathed a sigh of relief. Sansa was sitting before the fire and did not appear to be in distress.  He noted that she had taken her hair down again, her long locks blowing softly in the breeze, the firelight bringing out the warm red color. He rose, and stretched his aching muscles before joining her.

 

“I take it the night was uneventful?” he asked.

 

She didn’t seem to hear him, or sense his presence.  Her gaze was fixed on the orange flames but her eyes were vacant.

 

“Sansa?”  Stannis prodded, the sound of her given name sounding odd to his ears.  “Did something happen?”

 

Sansa turned, as if seeing him for the first time.  She shook her head slowly but didn’t speak. He noticed her lip tremble slightly, and her eyes glistened with tears.

 

“There  _ is _ something wrong,” he said, crouching down beside her, worry rising inside his chest.  “Tell me.”

 

“It isn’t important.  You wouldn’t understand,” she sniffed, a single tear breaking loose and rolling down her cheek. 

 

Without thinking, he reached out and brushed it away, her skin as soft as velvet to his touch.  The gesture seemed to calm her. She continued to avoid his gaze but she began to speak, her voice strained with emotion.

 

“It’s all so overwhelming sometimes, thinking that mother might be dead, and that we may never be rescued!  I was supposed to see Father and Robb! I was supposed to be married! I’m sorry─” She choked, beginning to sob in earnest.

 

Stannis was at a loss.  He wasn’t used to comforting anyone, let alone a young lady in obvious emotional distress.  He tried to consider her concerns and not dismiss them out of hand.

 

“There is no need to apologize.  Of course you miss your family─ and my nephew.” Though it pained him that such an admirable woman was engaged to a lout like Joffrey, he managed to hold his tongue.  “It’s perfectly understandable. As I told you before, there is a good chance that Catelyn survived. You mustn’t despair.”

 

Sansa nodded, her sobs subsiding.  He wondered how she would react if he took her into his arms.  He felt something inside his chest tighten as he resisted the idea.  She might take offense, then he would feel awful, and he would have made it worse for Sansa.

 

“Thank you.  I’m trying not to give up hope.  It’s just so hard sometimes.”

 

She hesitated, as if there were more she wanted to say.

 

“You said I wouldn’t understand,” he said, unfolding his long legs to sit beside her.  “I am trying. I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but it’s just the two of us for now.  I want you to feel that you can trust me.” 

 

There, he’d said it.   As foolish as it made him feel, as emasculating as it sounded to his own ears, to talk about _ feelings _ and not actions, it was the truth.  He wanted her to trust him. They had to trust each other if they were to survive.

 

Sansa met his gaze and the intensity of her green eyes tied his insides in a knot the size of a fist.  For a brief moment he felt he couldn’t breathe. He could easily lose his bearings in those eyes if he wasn’t careful.  Thankfully, she quickly looked away and studied her hands for a moment before speaking.

 

“I do trust you,” she replied hesitantly.  “It’s just that sometimes I don’t know what is wrong with me.  I think maybe I deserve what has happened. Maybe I’m being punished.”

 

“What?  What makes you say that?!”  Stannis asked, stunned by her unexpected comment.   
  


“While I miss my family so much, I’ve barely thought about Joffrey.  It’s almost as if I feel relieved that the wedding is postponed. What kind of a woman feels that way about her fiance?”

 

Stannis didn’t know quite how to respond to this new information.  Secretly he was elated at the idea that he had been wrong about this too.  Maybe Sansa wasn’t as enamored of Joffrey as he’d feared. He couldn’t let Sansa see how he felt, so he was careful to prevent the smile that would betray him.

 

“When was the last time you saw each other?” he asked, keeping his expression sombre.

 

“It’s been over a year.  We don’t even know each other that well, not really.  When we were young, I thought he was a handsome prince, but sometimes he could be mean as well. I thought he’d grow out of it.  After all, Father and Uncle Robert decided it would be a good match for us both, and I trust their judgement. But, Joffrey hasn’t even written me in weeks.  I was hoping to get it all sorted when I got to Sothoryos, but now that may never happen!”

 

“You mustn’t feel guilty for not pining away for a man you hardly know,” Stannis argued.  “Especially not─” he stopped, realizing that he may be going too far.

 

“What?” Sansa focused her attention on him.  “What were you going to say?”

 

Stannis hesitated, but then made up his mind.  It seemed the marriage had been practically arranged by Ned and Robert.  How much had been Sansa’s choice? The idea of it angered him. He could have expected as much from Robert, but was Ned so blind?  Sansa should know his opinion. What did it matter now anyway?

 

“I do not believe that Joffrey has,  _ grown out of it _ , as you say.  He has a certain reputation.”  He wouldn’t tell her of the rumors about Joffrey assaulting a prostitute, it was too scandalous.  He resolved to keep his comments general. “I didn’t understand at first how a lady of your good character would find him an acceptable match, but now I see I didn’t have all the facts.  I don’t think that Robert and Ned should have pressured you into such a decision.” 

 

_ He isn’t good enough for you! _  He wanted to shout, but refrained, not wishing to shock her, even if it was the truth. But if he thought his words would soothe Sansa’s feelings, he was mistaken.  If anything, more tears streamed down her cheeks and she took several stuttering breaths before unexpectedly throwing herself into his arms. His heart did a flip as she pressed her face against his neck and softly cried, her tears warm and damp against his skin.

 

“Forgive me, I spoke too harshly,” he pleaded, placing his hand on her back and rubbing gently before he could talk himself out of it.  “I should not have spoken ill of your betrothed, or your father. Please don’t despair. You have done nothing wrong, it’s all my fault.”

 

“N-no, you don’t understand.  I wanted you to speak honestly,” she sniffed, lifting her head and swiping the tears from her eyes.  Stannis reluctantly loosened his grip so she could sit up. The wet spot on his neck where her warm skin had made contact, chilled in her absence as her tears began to dry.  Admittedly, having her close had felt even more wonderful than he’d imagined. “Hearing you confirm what I’d thought all along makes me feel better, not worse. I was crying from relief, not despair.  Thank you.”

 

A weak smile flickered across her lips.  

 

“Oh.”  

 

Stannis was at a loss for words.  She actually believed him. He’d helped her feel better.  He wasn’t used to receiving a woman’s praise instead of her disappointment.  He couldn’t remember the last time Selyse had thanked him for anything.

 

Sansa blinked away the last of her tears, and took a calming breath before focusing on him once more.  The soft light of the fire, and the waning moon turned the color of her eyes a lustrous jade. The way she was looking at him, with gratitude and something he couldn’t decipher, left him unable to form a coherent sentence. 

 

“Good,” he managed, feeling like a fool.  

 

There was a moment of silence between them before Sansa averted her gaze and started to stand up.  Stannis quickly jumped to his feet and lent her his arm.

 

“I’m going to go wash my face, and then try to sleep,” she announced.  Before he could caution her, she cut him off, but with a sly smile indicating she wasn’t angry.  “─I’ll be careful. I promise. I’m only going over to a tide pool. I won’t go far.”

 

It took every ounce of his self-restraint not to insist on going with her, but it was clear that she wanted some privacy and he knew he must respect her wishes.

 

“Please shout if you need me,” he responded, forcing himself to sit down again.

 

“I will,” she assured him.  Sansa began to walk away from the fire, but when she reached the edge of the light, before stepping into the shadows, she stopped.

 

“I meant what I said.  I  _ do _ trust you, Stannis,” she said softly, before disappearing into the darkness.

 

~~~

 

Sansa awoke when the sun was well up.  The floor of the shelter wasn’t particularly comfortable, composed of hard shafts of bamboo and a mat of palm fronds, but it kept her off the sand.  She’d slept soundly, despite the harsh conditions, due to the physically and emotionally draining previous day. She’d only awakened because the angle of the rising sun was shining directly through the front of the shelter and into her eyes.  She turned on her side and gave a tiny gasp of surprise, startled to find Stannis asleep beside her. Of course he would be there, they shared this small shelter, but she hadn’t heard him join her. His rhythmic breathing told her he was sleeping soundly, and she wondered what time he had given up his watch in order to rest.  

 

He was laying halfway on his stomach, halfway on his side, using his arm as a pillow.  She took the opportunity to study him intently, instantly feeling a bit naughty for invading his privacy, but unable to ignore her curiosity.  His face was more relaxed in sleep, his brow smooth without his usual worry lines. His lips were nicely shaped too, when they weren’t pressed together in a thin line of tension.  She wondered how she ever thought he wasn’t handsome, because clearly he was. His jaw and upper lip were sprinkled with several days growth of beard and she struggled with the urge to touch it, curious to know if it was as scratchy as it looked.  

 

Oddly, the awkwardness she’d felt when she first realized they would be sleeping in such close proximity to each other quickly vanished.  So had most of the sadness and regret she’d struggled with when he’d come to her by the fire last night. Of course she still missed her family terribly, and was worried about their chances of being rescued, but what she had said to Stannis last night was true, she trusted him, she felt safe with him, and she didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if she were stranded here without him.

 

Suddenly his eyes fluttered and opened as he drew a sharp breath, starting awake.

 

“Sansa?”  

 

He was sitting upright in an instant, as if he wanted to pretend he had never been lying next to her.  His head brushed against the low ceiling of palm fronds, causing a loud rustling so that he had to bend awkwardly to avoid dislodging them.

 

“Good morning,” she said, disappointed that her study of him had been interrupted and that he was making her feel guilty again for staring at him, even though he was unaware of what she’d been doing.  So far, she found him much easier to be near when he was asleep!

 

“Did you rest well?” he asked, focusing on smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt and avoiding eye contact.

 

“Yes, and you? Did you get enough sleep?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”  He turned his attention to the height of the sun and frowned.  “I should have made an earlier start though. I had planned on completing a preliminary search of the island before dark.”

 

Sansa sat up, eagerly looking forward to discovering what else might be here.  She mentally prepared herself for an argument, expecting once again that Stannis would forbid her from joining him.  Much to her surprise, he did quite the opposite.

 

“Would you care to accompany me, or do you prefer to remain here?”

 

“I prefer to join you, of course!”  

 

Sansa’s face lit up with excitement.  She wasn’t sure what had happened to change Stannis’ mind.  He had actually given her a choice instead of an order, and she wasn’t going to question it.

 

“I would like to bathe and have something to eat first,” she added, eyeing him hopefully.

 

“Yes, by all means.  We will take the path to the waterfall and make our ablutions first.”

 

Was it her imagination or did he appear uncomfortable when he said the word  _ ablutions _ ?  She felt her cheeks warm slightly in response.  

 

“Shall we go before we waste any more time?” he added quickly.

 

Sansa’s hand flew to her lips to cover the snort of laughter that Stannis’ comment prompted.

 

“Did I say something amusing? Stannis stiffened, appearing offended by her reaction.  Sansa’s expression turned from amusement to concern.

 

“No!  Please don’t be angry.  I wasn’t laughing at you,” Sansa pleaded, touching his arm.  She felt awful for making him feel self-conscious. “I admire your punctuality, and I’m sorry if I offended you.  I was just surprised that you would describe spending a few minutes on conversation as a waste of time, but I am happy you have a plan.  It gives me hope, truly it does.”

 

He studied her face for a moment and she could feel him relax as he found that she was indeed sincere in her apology.  She really meant it. Stannis was different from any man she’d ever met, but the qualities she’d found irritating once were beginning to grow on her now that she understood that his intentions were good.  She dropped her hand and saw from his expression that he wasn’t offended by her comment.

 

“I didn’t mean to imply that speaking with you is a waste of time,” he objected, but the way he kept sneaking glances at the sun told her that he was only being courteous.  He really was ready to go, and she was preventing him from doing so. She understood that Stannis being courteous was a huge compliment and it left her with a warm fuzzy feeling inside.  In fact, she too was impatient to set off and so relieved him of his obligation to be polite.

 

“After you, Captain,” she offered with a bow and a flourish of her arm, which earned her one of Stannis’ rare smiles.

 

Stannis fell quiet again as they made their way back to the waterfall, barely speaking a word.  During the brief interval when they took turns bathing in order to give each other some privacy, Sansa decided that she would have to draw him out.   Spending the day exploring the island together would give her the perfect opportunity. Expecting to return to the beach and circle the island, he surprised her by telling her they would be climbing the mountain so they could survey the landscape from above first.  Although there was no trail, once they made it above the jungle canopy, walking was much easier despite the steady climb in altitude. It was also slightly cooler since there were no trees to block the breeze. 

 

“When was the last time you saw Robert?” Sansa asked.

 

Stannis, who was slightly ahead, turned and scowled.

 

“You mean,  _ Uncle _ Robert?” he snapped.

 

_ Good start, Sansa. _  She’d expected him to be defensive, but not such an emotional response.  Oh well, if she were to understand him at all, she needed to get him to talk to her.

 

“He insisted on being called that since I was a child.  I know he’s not my uncle,” she laughed. 

 

Stannis sniffed, but his face relaxed a bit.  “Robert and I aren’t close.”

 

He turned to continue up the mountain, but Sansa followed close on his heels.  

 

“My older brother, Robb, is the perfect one in the family.  Father thinks he can do no wrong. On the other hand, I’m just a girl ─ only useful when I’m married off to the right man.”

 

“Surely Ned doesn’t feel that way about you,” Stannis stopped abruptly, turning to face her, his brow furrowed.

 

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied wistfully.  “I haven’t seen him in months and when I was growing up we didn’t spend much time alone together.  I only know that Robb is his favorite.”

 

Stannis nodded thoughtfully, mulling over her words.  He probably knew what she was up to, trying to force him to talk about his brother, but played along anyway.

 

“Robert was father’s favorite when we were boys.  At school, Robert always received attention for being the best at sports.  I was always seen as the younger brother who didn’t measure up. I understood my place though, and always did my duty to the family.”

 

“Was it better after you left?  When you were married?” 

 

Sansa was almost afraid to ask the question, for fear of putting him off again.  She couldn’t believe he was finally opening up, and that they had so much in common as far as the family dynamic was concerned.

 

The bitterness in Stannis’ voice stunned her.  “No,” he growled. “Selyse and I didn’t marry for love, that was for duty  too. Robert needed an influx of wealth for Baratheon Imports in order to compete with the Lannister Trading Company.  He thought a marriage to the Florents would do the trick.”

 

“I see,” Sansa replied cautiously, knowing full well that Stannis would not want her pity.  Still she was sympathetic. It hurt her to think of Stannis feeling as if his life was only valuable in service to his brother.  Then it struck her like a savage blow to her gut, maybe she was more like Stannis than she’d thought. “Maybe that’s what father wants─” she began, thinking out loud.  “─for me to marry for duty. A marriage to a Baratheon would benefit the family business. Maybe I should stop hesitating and be a more dutiful daughter.”

 

Sansa was only trying to untangle the conflicting thoughts in her mind.  She’d hardly realized that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud until Stannis was right next to her, taking her by the shoulders, his face a mask of regret. 

 

“No, you mustn’t think like that!”  He commanded. “Look at me.” He cupped her chin in his hand, gently but firmly when she tried to turn away.  “It isn’t your duty to marry a man who won’t care for you the way he should ─ especially not a man like Joffrey.”

 

Sansa didn’t know what to do.  His imploring eyes were unbuttoning her defenses like a dress, and she found herself staring at his lips and wondering what it would be like to kiss him.  She was excited and terrified; filled with curiosity and desire. Most of all, she wanted to comfort him, and return the strength that he was giving to her.  It was all so confusing that she could hardly think straight.

 

“Then it wasn’t right for you either, to marry for duty.  You too deserve someone who cares for you,” she said thickly, never taking her eyes from his face as his thumb gently stroked her cheek.

 

Stannis leaned in slowly, his breath hot against her mouth, and she parted her lips in anticipation.  He hesitated, and Sansa knew something was wrong an instant before he pulled away, causing her to release a tiny gasp of frustration.  She turned her back, biting her lip hard, her face flushed from passion and embarrassment. What had caused him to change his mind? Had she done something wrong?

 

“We need to be going,” he said through clenched teeth.  Sansa was pleased by the agony in his voice, like he’d just twisted an ankle.   _ Good! _  She wanted him to feel bad.  She was mortified, having practically invited him to kiss her, only to have him pull away.

 

“Then lead the way,” she replied flatly, composing herself as best she could before turning around.  

 

She needn’t have worried because Stannis didn’t look at her before continuing the climb up the mountain.  He remained silent for the next twenty minutes until they eventually made it to an area of flat ground near what appeared to be the top.  Once they reached the highest point on the climb, Sansa’s distress at Stannis’ behavior slowly vanished as she took in the view. The lush green jungle and sharp peaks of the island stretched out before them for miles.

 

“It’s beautiful!” she gasped, turning in a circle to take it all in.  The mountainous terrain seemed mostly confined to the windward side of the island, where jungle growth and rocks swept down to the sea.  The leeward side, including their small lagoon was ringed in sandy beaches, interrupted by the occasional fields of rock, jutting out like fingers.

 

“It’s even larger than I suspected,” Stannis remarked, breaking his silence as he scanned the horizon.  “There is no way to survey it all, but at least on the windward side, the terrain seems too rugged for anyone to inhabit.  It creates a natural barrier.”

 

“That means no ship could rescue us, or would even see us from that side of the island?”

 

“Correct.”  Stannis looked at her for the first time, his face softening as if he regretted the tension that had so recently arisen between them because of the mixed signals he’d been sending.  “It doesn’t mean they wouldn’t see us. We can build a signal fire. Smoke is the best method of drawing a ship to our location since it can be seen from a distance.”

 

Sansa relaxed a little, as always, Stannis had a plan.  She continued to enjoy the scenery as Stannis squinted his eyes, using his hand to block the sun as he searched the area below for some sign of anything out of the ordinary.  She had just seated herself on a relatively flat rock and begun to munch on a banana from the provisions they’d carried with them, when she saw Stannis take two steps to the left, lean over a bit father and scowl.

 

“If only I had my spyglass,” he grumbled.

 

“Do you see something?”

 

“Stay here,” he snapped.  His body tensed, and the new expression on his face frightened her.  For a moment she was going to protest, but he turned to face her and she immediately knew it would be best to listen.  “I need to take a closer look at something, and you’ll be safer if you remain here. I give you my word, I won’t take any more risk than I have to, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

 

“What is it?”  Sansa shouted, as he was already heading down the other side of the mountain, toward a part of the beach they had yet to explore.

 

She expected him to ignore her, but he turned and replied, “I think it’s a camp.  Someone else may be on the island with us.”

 

Then she watched him disappear into the jungle, moving quickly, and for the first time on the island, she was afraid.

 


	6. Reading the Signs

 

Stannis stood on the sand and stared into the abandoned fire pit.  The camp was deserted, perhaps only a few weeks ago. There had been others on this island, but instead of giving him hope, as he examined the discarded items the former occupants had left behind, he grew very concerned.  It was clear to him from the few coins he’d found half buried in the sand, the shards of a broken bowl, and the scraps of canvas from a sail, that the men who had made camp here were pirates ─ Meereenese pirates to be exact.  They would have found no rescue from these men if they run across each other. As an officer, Stannis knew that he might have been killed after they’d had their fun with him, or perhaps held for ransom. Sansa would have been sold to a brothel owner ─ or worse.  Fortunately they were long gone, but for how long? Did they intend to return?

 

He looked up at the mountain, wondering if Sansa was watching him from above.  Probably so. At least she would see that he was alone and unharmed. He didn’t want her to be worried for his safety, or for her own.  Although her virtue might stand a better chance against pirates than alone on this island with him! Stannis felt his stomach twist in the clutches of guilt.  Now that he knew there was no immediate danger, he could afford to spend a quiet moment chastising himself. What had he been thinking? Merely an hour ago he’d almost kissed her!  Not for the first time he’d experienced a deep-seated urge to take her into his arms and comfort her, and more. What if he  _ had _ kissed her?  Would he have stopped at that or would he have taken her right then and there, rutting into her on the ground like a wild animal?  He shook his head in disgust with himself when the thought actually sent a surge of heat straight to his groin. What had these primitive conditions reduced him to?  He’d like to think he wouldn’t have defiled her, after all, he wasn’t  _ Robert _ , but he’d been precariously close to giving in to the moment ─ to his  _ feelings _ , and who knew where that would lead.

 

They’d been discussing duty, and marriage and how she wasn’t marrying Joffrey for love.  Although he’d been in the same situation, marrying Selyse for the sake of duty, the idea of it sounded so abhorrent coming from Sansa’s mouth!  He’d merely wanted to convince her of her worth, that she was deserving of a better life. Then he’d made the mistake of touching her, and she’d said with such conviction that  _ he _ deserved better as well.  He could not remember a woman ever looking at him with such warm, caring eyes, or with such...longing.  Sansa had wanted him to kiss her, he was certain of that, her lips parted, inviting him to partake. Selyse hadn’t once looked at him that way.   _ Selyse _ .  It had been her disapproving face in his mind’s eye that had stopped him.    

 

He’d been nearly mad with desire, imagining the taste of Sansa’s mouth, the softness of her hair as his fingers combed through the length of it, the feel of her breasts pressing against his chest with only her filmy chemise separating them.  Then, he remembered Selyse, and he remembered that he was still married. A technicality really, since the church would surely grant an annulment given the circumstances, but officially he still had a wife. Moreover, Sansa was engaged. Also a technicality perhaps, since she’d expressed such reservations that she might indeed break it off with Joffrey, but nevertheless currently betrothed.  

 

The clear boundaries of society had constrained him, and he had pulled away from Sansa, though it took every ounce of inner strength he possessed.  They couldn’t just discard morality because they were alone in this wild place. Otherwise, what would distinguish them from savages or animals? He had to remain resolute in his convictions for Sansa’s sake.  He didn’t expect someone of her age and inexperience in adult relationships to understand, so he hadn’t even tried to discuss it with her, even if he could have found the words to do so. He gathered from her reaction, and her silence that followed that she had been upset.  He regretted it, for it was entirely his fault, but it couldn’t be avoided. Keeping Sansa at a distance was the right thing to do. From now on he must be more careful around her. He must conduct himself as her guardian, since she had none here. He mustn’t give in to his primal urges.  Sansa was a woman of sound character, and would follow his lead. 

 

His stomach gave a lurch as the image of her bare calves popped into his mind, uninvited.  He closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head in frustration. Clearly this wasn’t going to be easy.  A moment later, he opened his eyes and they landed on the scraps of sail cloth. Maybe Sansa could use them to fashion something more appropriate to wear?  He glanced around, taking inventory of the many abandoned items. At least the pirates had left them a few things that they could use. A copper pot lay near the firepit.  It had a hole in the bottom, but he was sure he could fix it. The coins could be melted down to make a sewing needle, or the tip of a spear for fishing. He nodded to himself, his spirits lifting.  Sansa would be pleased. He would return at once to tell her the good news, and together they would carry these items back to camp. Afterwards, he would build a new shelter with a partition, so he and Sansa would have more appropriate sleeping quarters.  It would all work out. He had a plan.

 

~~~

  
  


Sansa shaded her eyes from the sun with her hand as she watched Stannis move around the beach far below.  After a few minutes, she breathed a sigh of relief. He seemed to be in no danger, thank the Seven. He was clearly alone as she studied his movements.  He appeared to be examining something she couldn’t quite make out, but from what she could tell from her vantage point, it was some type of camp similar to their own.  Were there others on the island after all? She wished Stannis would hurry back and tell her what he’d found. Perhaps she should disobey his wishes and follow him down?  He had stopped searching the area and was spending an irritatingly long period of time standing still. Was he thinking about her, about how he had come close to kissing her only to pull away and leave her confused and frustrated?  She could only hope so!

 

Now that she was sure of his safety, her concern for him had dissipated and was replaced by a simmering anger.  Why did Stannis continually send her mixed signals? One minute he was kind and caring, the next cold and uncommunicative.  One minute he was gently touching her face, the next turning his back. She had made it quite clear, at least she thought she had, that Stannis was welcome to kiss her.  Was it wrong for her to encourage him? She was drawn to him, and she thought, at least sometimes it seemed he was drawn to her. She no longer wanted to marry Joffrey, of that she was certain.  Stannis had agreed that she should not be forced to marry a man she didn’t love, but then stopped short of declaring the same for himself. Was that the problem? Stannis thought her deserving of love but not himself?  

 

Sansa stopped squinting into the sun and retreated to the shade of an overhanging ledge.  It was all so confusing! She only knew that she was beginning to care for Stannis, to consider him as a potential partner.  If they were back in civilized society, he would be seen as suitable husband material. Carrying the baggage of a failed marriage would hardly disqualify him, though her parents might object; nor would the difference in their ages.   An experienced man with an honorable profession, wealth, and a reputable family, was always seen as a good match for a younger woman. Surely Stannis didn’t still consider himself to be married? She considered the question carefully.  He did seem to be a stickler for rules and protocol. 

 

Maybe she needed to make it more clear that she no longer intended to marry Joffrey?  Also, they should discuss his situation with his estranged wife. Sansa contemplated what they would do if they were back in Westeros and were interested in pursuing a relationship.  Obviously, Stannis would ask permission to court her and they would have chaperones along on every outing together. They would never have been left alone to their own devices as they were forced to do now.  Maybe that was the problem? Maybe Stannis didn’t know how to behave without the normal rules. She too felt uncomfortable at first, alone on an island with a man she hardly knew, sleeping beside him, but now she felt a growing excitement at this unexpected freedom that allowed her to follow her own mind and not worry about what others thought of her.  In some ways, life on the island made her happy. She trusted Stannis and she was attracted to him. She wanted to get to know him better, and to see where it would lead. 

 

Sansa felt like she’d achieved a perfect score on one of Maester Luwin’s examinations. She wanted Stannis to court her, that was the answer!  If it would be appropriate in Westeros, surely it would be appropriate here. If Stannis felt more comfortable following the rules, then they would follow them to the best of their abilities.  Even though she was convinced that this was the answer, she was certain that Stannis would not come up with the idea on his own; it would have to come from her. The problem was, how to suggest it to him?  She would have to wait until the time was right. Sansa decided that she would bide her time until then, and in the interval, try to put Stannis’ mind at ease about the lack of rules. She smiled to herself, more at ease now that she had a plan.

 

~~~

 

“What are you doing?” Sansa asked, watching Stannis peeling a long dry vine into sections and then braiding the threads together.

 

“Making rope,” he answered without looking up.

 

Sansa could feel her frustration growing.  It had been a week since they’d discovered the abandoned pirate camp and carried a few, much needed items back to their little cove. Living conditions had improved since then. The pot had made it much easier to cook, and soon she would see about making a batch of soap.  With the scraps of linen sailcloth and sewing needle that Stannis had fashioned from melted coins, she was able to mend clothing. She’d even made a simple skirt to wear around camp, merely because it seemed to make Stannis more comfortable around her when her legs were covered.  He’d hinted quite forcefully that she do so. But though they’d made considerable progress in managing the day to day challenges of surviving on the island, Sansa was disappointed with her lack of progress with Stannis.

 

She was now convinced that she was right to think that Stannis was distancing himself from her due to his sense of propriety.  He’d even constructed a partition from palm fronds, to separate their sleeping quarters. It was flimsy, but offered them a small amount of privacy.  She had no quarrel with his traditional notions of modesty, in fact she thought it was sweet of him, and made her even fonder of him. The problem came when he withdrew from her physically and emotionally, barely speaking a word unless spoken to first.  Did he really find her such a threat to his morality? After all, it was looking as if they would never be rescued. There had been no sign of a ship after all this time. Did it really matter that he was married in name only, and she was still technically engaged?  She needed to find a way to break through the wall he had created and remind him that she was the only woman for miles around that mattered, and the rules that had constrained them on Westeros were no longer in effect.

 

“I can see that you are making rope, but for what purpose?” She prodded, leaving her sewing and moving to sit closer to him.

 

“It’s a tether for my fishing spear,” he explained, giving her the satisfaction of noting his apprehensive look.  It seemed even approaching him with her legs fully covered gave him pause. 

 

“I hope you can catch a fish for supper.”  Sansa was grateful for the bounty of the island but getting a little tired of shellfish, eggs, coconuts and bananas.  “May I watch?”

 

Stannis looked startled by the suggestion.  “There won’t be anything interesting for you to watch, I’m sure.  Spear fishing is mostly waiting for the right opportunity.”

 

“If it’s all the same, I’ll wait with you then.”

 

“As you wish.”  Stannis stood, reaching for his spear and fastening the rope tightly around a notch he’d made at the end.

 

Sansa removed her long skirt, which she’d fastened round her waist with a simple rope belt.  Underneath, she wore the same chemise that had been her only item of clothing, only now she’d shortened it even more so that the hem fell just above her knees giving her more freedom of movement.  She turned to find Stannis staring at her ─ or rather at her legs. For an instant she noted the unmistakable look of desire flash in his eyes but it was quickly replaced by one of alarm. She felt a flower of warmth blossom at her center in response.  Although she should feel guilty about provoking him, she was so frustrated by his self-imposed isolation that she did not. Also, she was quite flattered by his interest.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice stretched thin.

 

“I assume we will be climbing over rocks and wading into the sea.  I can hardly do that in a long skirt.” Sansa explained, forcing her expression to project innocence.

 

“I thought that you’d be watching me from the shore.  You don’t really mean to remain by my side?”

 

“Why not?  I want to learn.  Perhaps I too might catch fish someday.”  

 

Sansa actually had no desire at all to catch fish.  Stannis’ attention was the prize she sought, but spending time with him was the only way to achieve it.

 

Stannis started to protest and then fell silent.  Maybe he thought better of bringing up the  _ woman _ argument again, or maybe, Sansa hoped, he wasn’t so displeased by the thought of spending the morning with her as he tried to suggest.

 

“Very well, let’s be off shall we?”  He sighed, pointing to a sack that he’d fashioned out of sailcloth.  “Bring that along will you, in case we do catch something.”

 

Sansa waited until his back was turned to indulge a smug smile.  She quickly tied her hair back into a ponytail with a cloth ribbon, grabbed the sack, and followed him toward the reef.  They walked along the beach, not needing to go far until they came to an inlet where deep pools formed in the crevices between large rocks.  Stannis explained that there were bigger fish in the pools when the tide was in, hunting smaller fish near the rocks. They made their way carefully over the slippery rocks, Stannis instinctively holding out a hand for Sansa to take, steadying her whenever there was a particularly treacherous step.

 

“Over here I think,” Stannis motioned to a flat ledge, partially protected from the wind and sun by a wall of rock on one side.  He stretched his long legs across a gap to step up onto the ledge, holding the spear in his left hand and reaching back for Sansa with his right, once he’d secured his position.  Sansa’s foot pushing off combined with Stannis’ strong pull, propelled Sansa straight into him, forcing her to place a hand on his chest to stop her forward momentum. She emitted a sharp gasp of surprise as her skin contacted his, the wiry hairs softer under her palm that she had imagined.  She felt the heat of him, hotter than the sun against her back, and watched as his eyes darkened.

 

“Forgive me for being so clumsy,” she murmured, making no effort to remove her hand.  

 

They stood like that, facing each other for what seemed an eternity but was probably no more than a few seconds when Stannis, under the pretence of steadying her, took her by the shoulders and  held her at arm’s length, breaking the contact between them.

 

“No apology is necessary, are you alright?”  

 

Once again, his voice sounded as thin as parchment and it was obvious to Sansa that he was as flustered as she.  He didn’t wait for her to answer but immediately released her and stepping to the edge of the tide pool, began to scan the water for fish.  He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Try to keep to the shade, and not cast a shadow. If the fish see us they will swim away.”

 

Sansa nodded, taking a moment to compose herself.  This was one of those times where she wished her mother was here to give her advice.  She’d thought her plan to entice Stannis to court her a sound one, but now here they were both agitated and no closer to discussing the matter.  What good did it do for her to provoke him only for both of them to continue to pretend they weren’t attracted to one another? She could no longer fool herself into believing that she was misreading the signs.  There was definitely a spark between them. But how to ignite it into a flame? Or would her mother warn her not to play with fire?

 

“There!”

 

Stannis’ excited whisper brought her back to reality.  She watched as he tensed, aiming the spear and following the fish with the tip poised.  When the moment was right he launched it into the water.

 

“Seven hells!  The reflection threw off my aim,” Stannis growled, retrieving the errant spear by means of the tether that he’d looped around his right wrist.  “I’ll have to make an adjustment next time.”

 

He was totally unaware that despite his failure, Sansa had thoroughly enjoyed the show.  Watching his broad shoulders squared, back straight, and posing with his arm and leg muscles flexed, he looked like some artist’s rendering of the Sea God, and she felt a familiar buzz of excitement travel up her spine.

 

“Let me try,” she pleaded, an idea forming.

 

Stannis looked distracted and skeptical, but she took the spear from his hand, brushing his fingers as she removed the rope from his wrist.  

 

“What do I do?  Is this right?”

 

She stepped in front of him and raised the spear.  Although she was tall, the weapon was quite long and she wasn’t sure where to grip it, in order to have control when it was thrown.

 

Stannis moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her as she knew he must.  He seemed to be having trouble deciding where to place his left hand and eventually settled on her upper arm.  With his right, he adjusted the position of her hand gripping the spear.

 

“Here, move your hand higher.”  His voice was close to her ear, and had definitely changed tone again.  “Straighten your back and square your shoulders.”

 

“Like this?”  Sansa purposefully leaned into him, her back against his chest, her hips brushing against his groin, pulling a deep, soft, sound from his lips.  

 

“Uh,er, yes. I think you have it now.”

 

To Sansa’s dismay he stepped away.   She stood like a statue, not having thought past drawing him closer.  She would have to throw the spear, she supposed, but first she would have to spot a fish.  She waited, her arms tiring with no sign of movement in the depths of the pool.

 

“Stannis?” She asked, not turning to look at him.  This might be easier if she didn’t. “If we were rescued today, what would become of us?”

 

“There is little chance of us being rescued today,” he answered flatly.

 

“Pretend,” she requested.  “For me. What would happen to the two of us?”

 

“We would continue on to Sothoryos I should think.  Robert and Ned would be there, and I was tasked with delivering you safely to your father.”

 

She turned and lowered the spear, her shoulders slumping.  It was if all the breath had left her lungs, deflating her.

 

“Is that all I am to you, a duty to be discharged, after all that has happened?”

 

“No, of course not!” Stannis’ stricken expression told her that she’d struck a nerve.  “Do you think I want to get rid of you? We both have lives and obligations. Those haven’t just gone away because we’ve been here all this time.”

 

“Are you certain?  Do you really believe that when our families receive word of our  _ deaths _ , that they won’t move on with their own lives?  I don’t think they will have any idea that we might have survived.  Shall we go on pretending that the obligations of the past matter more to us that what is happening here and now?”

 

She could tell by the guilty expression on his face that he understood full well her reference.

 

“Sansa, I’m married.  We never obtained an annulment.  That is no small matter,” he offered weakly, his voice hoarse.

 

“Your wife left you, Stannis.  It seems to me that now she is married to the gods, but perhaps you find the thought of your still being married to be a comfort.  Or perhaps you are afraid!” 

 

Sansa couldn’t keep  the emotion from her voice, the sadness and frustration bursting forth in her accusation.  She tossed the spear to the ground and stormed off, all pretense of spending the day fishing with Stannis gone.

 

“Sansa, wait!” Stannis cried after her, but did not follow.  

 

“Be careful!”  Were the last words she could make out as she reached the more stable footing of the beach and set off in the direction of camp.  His concern didn’t touch her this time the way it had in the past. She had resigned herself to the fact that Stannis was too set in his ways to ever entertain the idea of setting duty aside for a chance at happiness.  Since they’d arrived on the island, she’d never felt more alone.

 


	7. The Bare Necessities

 

As the sun was setting, Stannis cooked the fish he had caught that morning over a small fire.  He tried his best to concentrate on the task, and not to stare at Sansa, yet he found himself glancing at her every few minutes.  If she noticed, she was doing an admirable job of ignoring him. She was busy stirring a pot of coconut oil over the main fire, initiating the slow process of making soap.  She had barely spoken to him since he’d returned to camp, and he could hardly blame her. That very morning she had hinted at something he’d done his best not to contemplate ─ that they might become more than two people forced together by chance.   _Hinted_ was the operative word.  She had hinted at what exactly?  That he might pursue her affections with her blessings?  That he might admit his attraction to her, and that she might, to his unending astonishment, return that attraction?  That was possibly overstating what she had actually said. He could well be reading too much into it, but she had clearly asked what would happen to the two of them in the future ─ as if they would have a future _together_.  Obviously he’d answered incorrectly and mucked the whole thing up by talking about Selyse, and obligations, though he knew full well he had none of any importance.  He was left to wonder where the conversation would have gone if he hadn’t made a horse’s arse of himself.

 

Sansa had attempted to have a conversation that he’d been trying to avoid for days, of that he was certain.  He’d shut her out, because he was terrified to contemplate what might happen if they were to shun the conventions of modern society and venture off into the unknown.  He’d only been trying to protect her. Hadn’t that been the plan? Don’t give into temptation and do something you might both come to regret, such as kissing her? Isn’t this what he wanted ─ for Sansa to face reality and stop trying to invent an inappropriate relationship?  Well, now, she was shutting him out, and it didn’t seem like such a good plan anymore.

 

It was only fair.  It served him right.  But how to remedy the situation?  On one hand, a part of him thought it for the best.  On the other hand, did it benefit either of them to spend endless weeks, perhaps years being miserable?  Did anything except what the two of them wanted matter now? Whatever the right answer was, and he was as confounded as ever as to what that might be, he felt the need to say something.

 

“The fish is sufficiently cooked,” he remarked, only to be met with silence.  

 

He placed the fish, steamed inside a wrap of banana leaves, on a rock to cool.

 

“How is the soap coming along?” he persisted.

 

“It should be ready tomorrow,” she answered flatly, without looking at him.

 

“I’ll be pleased to have a proper wash,” he said, trying too hard to sound optimistic.

 

“Mm,” she grunted.

 

Stannis couldn’t take it anymore.  Sansa’s silence was worse than any reservations he had about legal technicalities, or moral implications.  He couldn’t stand to see her so miserable, and to know that anything he had done, or had failed to do, was the cause.  At the very least they needed to discuss what Sansa had started to bring up that morning, in more detail.

 

“ _If_ we were back in Westeros,” he stated, his sharp emphasis on the word, if, causing Sansa to finally turn her head and meet his gaze.  “And _if_ I wasn’t married, and _if_ you weren’t engaged to be married, and _if_ I knew you were amenable...I would ask your father permission to court you.”

 

The smile that instantly lit her face, melted away any doubts he had that he was saying the right thing, or that he had misconstrued her wishes.  

 

“You would?” She practically sang the words.  Then her smile wavered. “But, we are not back in Westeros.  We are here.”

 

“Stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere,” he added, nodding his agreement.  “I can hardly─”

 

“I am amenable,” she interrupted, raising her chin and looking every bit a lady of regal bearing rather than a castaway.  “My father isn’t here and I’ve told you that I do not intend to marry Joffrey.”

 

“You wish for me to court you?”  His eyes widened, a feeling of alarm beginning to stir within him.  Saying it out loud only made it seem all the more ridiculous. He’d assumed she would see how impractical the suggestion was, but from her reaction, he gathered she did not.  His heart sank into his stomach, out of fear or hope he knew not which.

 

“I am amenable, if you are,” she reiterated firmly.  Then, she demurred slightly, as if suddenly embarrassed by what she was asking of him, and what she was confessing at the same time.  “It would be the proper thing to do. If a man were interested...” her voice trailed off, and her eyes searched his face for assistance.

 

Stannis swallowed hard, utterly confused.  What on earth did she want from him? There was no theater or opera or fine dining establishment here.  Where could he possibly take her? Where would she receive him? There wouldn’t be a chaperone. It was all so impossibly improper!

 

His hesitancy must have disturbed Sansa for she turned away and added, “I’m sorry if I misread the signs.  Maybe you aren’t interested in─” Her voice trembled and cracked.

 

“No that isn’t it at all!”  He interrupted, not wishing to give her the wrong idea yet again.   _Seven hells there was no way around it!_  He realized what he had to do, though the idea both pained him, and admittedly frightened him more than a little.

 

“Lady Stark, would you accompany me to...for...ah...dinner and a walk?” he stammered, his brain at a total loss.  Would such an evening suffice to initiate a proper courtship? Of course it wouldn’t, but he had been left with no other options!  “Tomorrow night? If it should please you, that is.”

 

There it was.  Dinner and a walk shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish, if he hadn’t made a total fool of himself already.  They would probably have done both anyway, but somehow now it would take on an entirely new significance. He felt his jaw tense, waiting for her answer.  Would such a simple offer satisfy Sansa? What if she turned him down? He wasn’t at all sure which would be worse, her accepting or her refusing. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand that he had hurt her yet again, and he must make amends, whatever it took.

 

“Why yes, Captain Baratheon, it would please me very much.”  

 

Her enigmatic smile was hard to read.  Was she laughing at him, or was she truly pleased by his simple request?  When her eyes met his, there was no mistaking the excitement in her gaze. His breath caught for a moment, and he understood that this courtship suggestion wasn’t a thing she was taking lightly.  She expected a real courtship. In asking her, he had done right for once, and now he mustn’t fail in the execution. He swallowed again, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Dornish desert.

 

“Very well.  I’ll meet you here, at sunset.”

 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

Now, if only he could figure out what to do next.

 

~~~

  


As Sansa made her way through the jungle, the sun was just beginning to burn away the early morning mist.  During the many long days that had passed since they’d been stranded on the island, she had become very familiar with the whistling sounds of birds and the soft hoots of monkeys high overhead in the canopy.  Still, Stannis would be upset if he knew she was making this journey alone, without informing him first. He was still very protective of her and she had to admit that sometimes it filled her with a warm, fuzzy feeling when he insisted on accompanying her whenever she wanted to venture into an unfamiliar part of the island.  

 

This morning, however, she hadn’t wanted to wake him.  She was under the impression that he hadn’t slept well last night.  She’d heard the rustle of the fronds in their partition as he tossed and turned.  At one point she thought she heard him groan in pain and he left the shelter suddenly.  Had he hurt himself on the rocks fishing? He’d seemed fine at dinner that night. After that, she had fallen asleep, and when she had awakened in the early morning, she heard the sound of his rhythmic breathing, and knew that he had returned and had fallen asleep at last.  

 

Aside from letting Stannis have his rest, there was another reason she wanted to venture out alone this morning.  After all this time, this morning she would finally get to bathe with soap! The batch she’d been working on had been finished late last night, and she’d poured the hot oil into a dozen hollowed out coconut shells which Stannis had split into halves.  It had solidified overnight ─ not as much as she’d hoped, but even in a thick, clotted cream-like state, it would serve her purpose.

 

Sansa arrived at the waterfall in a rush, and not wasting any time, stripped off her chemise.  Avoiding the muddy banks to her right, she skirted the pool to her left and found a suitable spot on the rocky ledge where she had waited for Stannis that first day on the island.  Kneeling, she plunged the garment into the cool water, carefully scooping a handful of soap out of the crude mold to coat it. Though it did not produce the bubbly lather that a high quality soap would, she was pleased by the slick, purifying texture, and the fresh, slightly sweet scent produced from the dried flowers and herbs she’d added to the mixture.  All in all she considered her first attempt at soapmaking a success, and she couldn’t wait to use her product on her own skin!

 

She quickly finished washing and rinsing her chemise, and laid it out to dry on some nearby rocks.  Lowering herself into the cool water of the pool, she immediately rubbed soap on her arms and shoulders, unable to suppress a squeal of delight at the soft, frothy feeling against her skin.  Who knew such a simple pleasure could be so exquisite!

 

Since the pool was too deep near the ledge for her to stand, she grasped her crude container of soap and swam over to the waterfall, carefully holding it above water.  Once near the cascading stream overhead, she was able to find the perfect spot for her bath, seating herself on a smooth rock close enough to catch the spray from the falls, but not directly underneath so that the soap would wash away too quickly.  Without further hesitation she got down to business and applied a large dollop to her hair. Her eyes closed, and she released a groan of utter contentment as her fingers vigorously worked the cleansing concoction over her scalp and through her long locks.  

 

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t clean before.  She, and Stannis too, regularly bathed in the freshwater pool.  Sand could be used as an abrasive to clean skin, and there was coconut oil, and the sap of some exotic plants that had proved useful to soften and moisturize against the drying effects of the sea.  She and Stannis hadn’t been dirty or too smelly, thankfully, but the ever-present harsh feeling of salt and sand and the lingering odor of the island itself, had been soaked into their bodies and their clothing.  The feeling that a bit of soap produced was almost as welcome as a rescue ship. This was a different level of clean that she hadn’t experienced in quite some time, and the feel of her long, thick hair becoming softer by the second between her fingers, and the fragrant scent that reached her nostrils, was heavenly.  

 

She instantly thought of Stannis and his reaction, for the main reason for her hurry to use the soap that morning, was in preparation for their date that evening.  Would he be pleased by the scent of the soap? Would it finally entice him to kiss her, after two unsuccessful attempts? Admittedly, the thought had occurred to her.  She wanted him to kiss her more than ever, now that she knew he was interested. He’d asked to court her hadn’t he? She wanted to know what it was like, to feel his mouth pressed against her own.  She’d experienced a few brief, stolen kisses from boys in the past. One, that was much too rough from Joffrey that she quickly dismissed from her thoughts. With Stannis, she sensed it would be different.  She let the image of it linger in her mind, picturing Stannis’ face, his lips touching hers for the first time, his long fingers sifting through her hair. Sansa’s hands moved lower, trailing soap down her neck to her breasts.  Cupping them, she made slow circles as she washed, her nipples warming, then stiffening as the spray from the waterfall rinsed and cooled them.

 

She became acutely aware of the heat rising between her thighs, and an emptiness that demanded urgently to be filled.  Her fingers moved over her stomach and lower, slipping into the crease as she began to clean her most intimate area. She leaned back against the rock, clinging to the image of Stannis’ face and pushing away the guilt that nagged at the corners of her fantasy.  She hadn’t touched herself in many weeks, the lack of privacy being the utmost reason, as she no longer believed the practice to be an aberration invented by her own sinful mind ─ not after Jeyne had confessed that most women did it.

The long period of abstinence intensified her need, and the gentle tingle in her center quickly escalated to an ache.  

 

Her fingers began to move with purpose, no longer under the guise of washing, but engaging those areas which demanded immediate attention, and when kneaded just so, produced a hiss of pleasure.  Admittedly, she was rushing toward her release, partly because she didn’t know how much longer she could keep her guilt at bay, for even though she had accepted the validity of her womanly desires, the stigma that society had placed upon them still existed.  The other reason was that, in the back of her mind she wondered what would happen if Stannis was to find her in such a state. What if he came looking for her? Would he be horrified at her wanton ways or would he find himself as aroused as she?

 

The later thought produced an almost painful burning sensation between her thighs, accompanied by a surge of moisture. Her hand moved faster, and with a slightly firmer stroke, causing her to bite her lip in concentration as the heat and pressure continued to intensify.  The soap had long since been rinsed away, but her fingers were slick with her own natural lubricant. She turned on her side, squeezing her thighs together as two fingers breached her entrance, and her thumb continued to rub against the focus of her pleasure. “Stannis,” she moaned, imagining his strong, calloused, hands, rough yet gentle, moving over her skin.  After that, her peak came quickly, and she gasped during the moment of release, as her fingers carried her through the tremors.

 

Sansa felt an immediate sense of contentment, but also a twinge of longing, as if some deeper desire had not been satisfied.  As mortified as she would have been if Stannis had come upon her there, part of her wished he had. She finished her bath quickly, a pang of guilt lingering at her center.  Could she even look Stannis in the eyes after spending the morning fantasizing about him? They hadn’t even begun their courtship and in her mind she’d already taken him as her lover.  What would he think if he knew the truth? He would probably think that she was a woman of low morals that he would never court in a million moons!

 

She returned to the rocks where she had left her chemise, and found it to be suitably dry.  The thought that she had considered earlier returned to her as she was dressing. What if Stannis liked that she desired him?  Had he actually fantasized about her too? She felt her cheeks warm as she blushed involuntarily. There was no use in day dreaming about it.  She would simply have to wait for this evening to determine if Stannis was truly amenable to a romantic relationship. She had convinced him to consider the idea of courting her.  What happened next was up to Stannis.

 

~~~

  


Stannis started awake when he heard a loud rustle next to him, only to discover his arm had smacked up against the leafy partition separating his meagre sleeping quarters from Sansa’s.  Apparently, during his brief period of restless sleep, his subconscious had him attempting to break down the thin barrier between them. This did nothing to ease his mind concerning his self-control when he began his courtship of the lady that very evening.  Thankfully, he could tell by looking through the gap his arm had made in the thin partition that Sansa was gone. At least he hadn’t woke her. And, at least he hadn’t awoken in the embarrassing state he had only a few hours earlier, painfully aroused and on the verge of soiling his only pair of trousers.  

 

He’d been dreaming of Sansa.  In the dream she’d been unaware of his presence as an observer as she’d taken her bath.  Her long red hair flowed down her bare back, offering only brief glimpses of her ivory skin between the silken strands, until they reached the soft curve of her lower back and stopped short, revealing the tantalizingly perfect globes of her buttocks, and the mesmerizing length of her impeccably sculpted legs, as she bathed beneath the waterfall.  The image lingered in his mind as he hastily fled from the hut, careful not to disturb the sleeping Sansa, and made it as far as the first private spot he’d found, behind an outcrop of some rocks, before releasing his rigid cock and roughly jerking it to a shuddering climax, his cry of relief drowned out by the endless roar of the sea.

 

It hadn’t taken long to spill his seed, given the combination of his physical state and the image of Sansa’s naked body imprinted on his mind’s eye, but immediately afterwards he was overwhelmed by a terrible sense of guilt.  It wasn’t like he’d never dealt with his sexual frustration in such a manner before, though not often did his staunch code of self-discipline abandon him. It was a necessary evil at times, to free the mind for more important matters.  Yet, this was different. His need had been more urgent than he could remember since he’d outgrown adolescence, and it had been directed toward one particular woman, and not merely an abstract fantasy. He had rearranged himself back to a state of decent dress, and after a quick wash in the sea, he’d returned to the hut and had managed a few hours of decent sleep.

 

Now in the sobre morning light, he realized that it wasn’t the notion that he desired Sansa sexually that disturbed him most, but it was the intensity of that desire.  It still seemed so improper to his way of thinking! She was young, and inexperienced, and he must be taking advantage. He was responsible for her safety, but yet he was probably her biggest danger!  Yes, she had convinced him that she wanted him to court her, the only proper way for him to pursue her, but was it the right thing to do? Did she understand where it might lead? Even if she did, it was up to him, as a gentleman, to set boundaries.  He still had doubts, especially when he was behaving as beastly as the unseen boar that roamed the jungle. He was obligated to go through with their romantic evening, though maybe Sansa would finally see him for what he was ─ a man totally unsuitable for a woman as lovely as herself.  Perhaps after one evening of courting, there would never be another. That might absolve him of his guilt ─ but did he hope for it, or did he dread it? Did he want Sansa to want him? That was the real question, and the one to which he dared not search his heart too closely for an answer.

 


	8. An Evening to Remember

 

Sansa was nervous as she made her way down the beach toward camp.  The sun was setting on the line between ocean and sky, bathing the sea with a warm orange glow, and the heat of the day had begun to dissipate.  Stannis had insisted that she stay away from camp for the entire afternoon, so he could make preparations for their liaison romantique. He hadn’t used the fashionable Dornish description, but she thought it sounded so much more refined than assignation, or courtship.  The traditional Westerosi terms made it sound more like a business transaction, and she was finished with being someone else’s bargaining chip. She wanted to know Stannis in the emotional sense, not the practical. She knew that side of him all too well, which was the reason she was nervous, because they knew each other so well, and yet in some ways they were strangers.   After tonight would they be closer or even farther apart?

 

Sansa touched her hair, making sure it was still in place, though the soft breeze worked to undo it.  She had worn it up, secured with a ribbon she had fashioned from scraps of cloth. She could feel the softness of the strands after washing it with soap that morning.  She had noticed Stannis slip away with some of her soap after she had returned from her bath. She wondered if he would notice the care she had taken with her hair, or her fresh scent.  She wished she’d had some jewelry, or at least some extra cloth to make a shawl to cover her shoulders, but life on the island did not afford her any of the small luxuries of home. They would make do.  She was wearing the longer piece to her skirt, which covered her legs. She wanted Stannis to see her as a proper lady, not as a woman who was trying to seduce him. Even though that thought may have crossed her mind more than once.  

 

Sansa smiled when she reached the camp and saw Stannis after being separated most of the day.  He was standing in front of a formation of rock where they usually had their dinner. It was a far cry from the captain’s table on the Fury, but it was functional.  Stannis’ posture was very formal as he stood waiting for her, as if he were the maitre d’ at a fancy restaurant. Was it her imagination or did he look as nervous as she felt?

 

“Lady Stark, please, be seated.”  

 

He gestured to a place near a flat rock, and Sansa was amazed to discover that he had fashioned a cushion from sailcloth so she need not sit on the ground or a rock as they usually did.  Moreover, he had formally set the “table”, with large rounded leaves for place mats and more cloth for napkins, tied with short pieces of vine. Hollowed coconut husks served as plates. He’d fashioned small torches nearby to give the illusion of candlelight, instead of relying on firelight alone.  

 

Sansa’s heart swelled.  Stannis had taken her request for a proper courtship seriously indeed, and had gone to great lengths to please her!  She wondered what else he had in store.

 

“Are we going back to being so formal?” She asked, allowing him to take her arm and help her to sit. “You don’t have to return to addressing me as, Lady Stark.”

 

“I suppose not,” Stannis answered, looking a bit crestfallen.  “I didn’t know what you were expecting.”

 

Worried that she’d put him off, Sansa quickly added, “This is perfect!  Everything looks lovely. Thank you, Stannis.”

 

She studied him, and in the dimming light couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not, but he certainly appeared to relax and even twitched his lips in a fleeting smile.  She noticed that he had taken some care with his appearance as well. Bearded now, he must have used his knife to trim the unruly edges of it, for it looked more tame than last she’d seen it.  She found it suited him. His hair was growing longer as well, and she loved the way it curled a bit around his ears and the nape of his neck. She wondered how soft it would feel to her touch.  Finding herself staring, she quickly looked away, and was thankful when he spoke.

 

“Would you care for something to eat or drink?  We have roasted fish and coconut milk, or water as I’m sure you already know.”

 

Sansa laughed at that, covering her mouth with her hand, though she wasn’t sure that he intended it as a joke.  Luckily, he didn’t seem to take offense.

 

“I’ll have whatever you are having, thank you.”

 

Her gaze followed him as he carried her makeshift plate to the fire and retrieved the fish he’d prepared.  For some reason, he appeared more confident than he had at first. He reached for another container and applied something to the fish and returned it to the flames.

 

“I thought we’d try something a bit different tonight,” he said with an air of smug assurance that peaked her curiosity.  What could possibly be different after days upon days of sameness? What was he up to?

 

She didn’t have long to find out, because within another minute he was bringing the food over and presenting it to her.  She reached for it without thinking, and before Stannis could warn her to be careful. She hissed when the hot fish burned her fingertips and she placed them instantly in her mouth, sucking gently to soothe the pain.  To her shock they tasted sweet! The surprise overcame the sting of the minor burn.

 

She met Stannis’ gaze to find him staring at her strangely, which brought a rush of heat to her cheeks, the food temporarily forgotten.

 

“I’m so stupid, I couldn’t wait to taste it,” she said, embarrassed.

That seemed to shake Stannis into action.

 

“Can I get you something to ease the sting?  Some coconut oil?”

 

“No, thank you, it isn’t that bad.  Why does this taste sweet?” She ignored her tingling fingers and used her other hand to taste the fish, which had now cooled sufficiently.  “Stannis, it’s delicious! It tastes like honey!”

 

At last Stannis gave her a proper smile.  

 

“It _is_ honey.  I found some hives in the lower hills.  I also found some different fruits that taste like citrus.  This island has a bounty we haven’t yet fully discovered.”

 

He passed her another dish with some orange chunks of fruit in it, which she eagerly sampled.  The taste was sweet and citrusy, and smelled exotic. After so many weeks of the same flavors, she had to stop herself from squealing with delight.  

 

She ate in relative silence after that, but she couldn’t help but notice Stannis’ pointed eye contact, which she returned in equal measure.  After feasting on the unexpected delicacies which Stannis had provided for a few minutes, she finally spoke.

 

“Aren’t you going to have some?”

 

Stannis looked as if he’d been caught doing something bad, and she was almost certain this time that he _was_ blushing.  

 

“I like watching your face while you are enjoying yourself,” he admitted before seating himself across from her and sampling the food himself.

 

Sansa’s stomach swooped.  There was an intensity of attraction happening between them that hadn’t existed before, or at least neither of them had given into it.  They’d had dinner together every night for weeks, but this was certainly special.

 

“Tell me about when you were a boy,” Sansa started, desperate to know more about this reserved man.  She wanted to get him to open up and remove the frustratingly formal facade that he’d erected. “Did you always want to sail the seas?”

 

Stannis looked surprised by her question, and studied her intently before answering.

 

“Robert and I grew up at Storm’s End.  We swam and played in the ocean, my father often took us sailing.  I loved the sea.” His expression darkened, and Sansa waited for him to continue.  “One day there was a great storm and the ship carrying our parents was smashed against the rocks near the lighthouse.  Robert and I watched it happen. There were no survivors.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Sansa gasped, saddened and upset that she’d made him recall such a memory and at the same time proud that he felt close enough now to share it with her.  “I knew that they had died, but I didn’t know the circumstances. How awful for you both!”

 

“It’s long past now,” Stannis added reassuringly, allowing her to see that he wasn’t upset with her for broaching the subject.  “After that, I was afraid of the sea for quite some time, never venturing too far from shore, but when war broke out, I did my duty and enlisted in the Navy.  After all these years I’ve learned that you can’t control the sea, but I’ve made my peace with it. It can be beautiful as well as terrible.”

 

“Robert never told us that story,” she remarked.  It seemed silly to call him uncle now. She knew she was risking Stannis’ ire, but she was genuinely curious.  “I should think that enduring such a tragedy would have brought you and Robert closer together.”

 

To her surprise, Stannis answered calmly.  There was no hint of the anger that Robert’s name usually provoked in him.  “Robert and I are not alike. The loss of our parents, and our reactions to it, helped to emphasize our differences, not to bond us together.”

 

He said it so matter-of-factly, that her heart ached for him.  He had accepted that this was something that would never change.

 

“I can understand in some ways.  Robb and I are very different as well.  In hindsight, I realize that if we’d been closer, perhaps he would have been more supportive, and warned me about Joffrey.  Surely he must have suspected he wasn’t a good match for me.”

 

She looked into Stannis eyes, his gaze was much softer than usual and it sent a tingle through her core.  He reached for her hand and his fingers touched hers, clasping it gently. They stayed like that for a moment, relishing the closeness until Stannis spoke.

 

“I have been remiss,” he said, surprising her.

 

“How so?  Everything has been lovely ─ the seating arrangement, the dinner, the honey.”

 

“I haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight.”

 

Sansa was drenched in a flood of warmth, so unexpectedly overcome she was forced to look away.  She had had numerous men say such things flirtatiously, and she was pleased to hear such compliments, but took them as having no more weight than air.  Never had she been given such a heartfelt sentiment, and from Stannis Baratheon no less, a man not given to frivolity. She suddenly felt very self-conscious and unworthy of such attention.

 

She removed her hand from his and touched her napkin to her lips for a distraction.

 

“You are too kind,” she admonished, not fishing for further praise, but truly feeling the strange sensation of being courted, and being totally unadorned save for a splash of sun across her cheeks and a flower in her hair.  It made her feel plain, which she had been taught by society to equate with ugly. “I long for some face powder, or a tin of rouge at least. to improve my complexion.”

 

“You require no such items, I assure you.  Your complexion needs no improvement.”

 

Stannis said it with such conviction that she knew he meant it.  The softness of his gaze was replaced with an intensity that sent a torrent of butterflies fluttering to her center.

 

“Shall we go for a walk?”

 

Sansa nodded, putting her napkin down and taking his hand as he helped her to her feet.  They linked arms and walked slowly down the beach as the moon was rising, casting a pale glow over the sand.  The ocean was calm, waves lapping gently at the shore as the tide pulled them farther out to sea, creating a glistening silver expanse of beach for their stroll.

 

They walked in silence for some time, enjoying the soft breeze and the sounds of the sea.  His arm was strong and steady, and she fought to keep her hand from squeezing his bicep to gauge its firmness as she held it.  Was it her imagination or was he also holding her closer than usual? She was trying not to contemplate how the evening would end, and that she never wanted it to end, when Stannis stopped abruptly and faced her.  His features were illuminated clearly in the moonlight and she could see the hesitation in his expression.

 

“Sansa, I think you know, at least I want you to know, that I care for you,” he started, his former confident manner all but gone.

 

“I care for you too,” Sansa interrupted.  She knew if she left him to contemplate too long, his own doubts and sense of social duty would win out.  She did not want to return to the awkward silence that had existed between them in the past, she couldn’t bear it.  She took a deep breath and tried not to think about how bold she was about to be. “You have my permission to kiss me.”

 

His eyes grew wide with surprise, or fear, or perhaps a combination of both.  He appeared to have lost the ability to make a decision. She wrapped her arms around his waist, making it easier for him, but not pulling him toward her.  He would have to make this decision of his own volition. She tilted her head up in invitation, trying to appear calm, but her heart pounding so hard she could feel it pulsing in her ears.

 

“Do you wish to kiss me?  Or am I being presumptuous?  If so I apologize,” she added, willing him to end this torture.

 

“Of course I wish to kiss you,” he stammered at last.  “It isn’t as simple─” He left the objection unfinished, as if resigning himself to a decision.  He lowered his face closer to hers, his lips a mere inch from her own so that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon them.  “Are you sure?” He whispered, his eyes searching hers for any hint of regret. “What is done cannot be undone.”

 

“I’m sure,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

 

Stannis’ kiss was more gentle, and his lips much softer than she had expected.  The first touch was tentative, but soon deepened, and as she parted her lips to accommodate his, he immediately pressed closer.  She was surprised at how soft his beard was, and how it tickled her upper lip, which only added to her delight that this was finally happening.  

 

Sansa let her thoughts go, giving herself over to sensation, no longer preventing her hands from exploring the well defined muscles of his back and shoulders.  His murmur of pleasure when her teeth accidently grazed his lower lip, sent a shiver of delight down her spine, or maybe it was because Stannis’ hand had found a resting spot on her lower back, she couldn’t be sure.  Either way, she couldn’t get enough, and squeezed him more tightly to her body, even as she felt his grasp on her become firmer as well. Her tongue ventured out to taste him, and he responded in kind, after pulling back slightly to adjust the angle before pressing his mouth even more firmly against hers.  Her breathing became heavy, her heart pounding with such vigour she knew he must feel it beating against his own chest, so tightly was she positioned against him. She imagined his hand slipping lower, and shifted her weight, tempting him to cup her buttocks as the warmth of her awakening arousal surged between her thighs.

 

“Sansa-”  He breathed in her name and exhaled it softly back into her mouth, pulling away just enough to catch his breath, for she could see he was breathing as heavily as she.  

She felt wobbly, having never experienced a kiss accompanied with as much passion, and with a man full grown.  Stannis wasn’t some lusty schoolboy, although at times these past weeks he had seemed just as unsure of himself.  At the moment though, Stannis appeared quite confident. Sansa laced her fingers behind his neck as he resumed their kiss, taking her mouth with abandon as he gathered her even more tightly into his strong arms, nearly lifting her off the ground.  She returned his kiss eagerly, tasting his lips and allowing his tongue to explore freely. She happily lost track of time, focusing instead on Stannis. When at last he returned her to sound footing on the sand, breathless, her lips pleasantly damp from his kiss, she smiled shyly, suddenly at a loss for words.  

 

No words were needed.  Stannis seemed as content as she, and after studying her closely to assure himself of her well being, took her arm and led her back to camp at a leisurely pace.  Sansa felt as if she were floating on air instead of treading on sand.

 

“Good night,” she whispered, tilting her head and offering him one last chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.  “Tonight was lovely. Thank you, Stannis.”

 

“Good night,” he answered, lingering outside to stand the first watch, as she entered the shelter.

 

As Sansa lay down she couldn’t keep from smiling.  She realized she’d probably been grinning like a fool the entire walk back, as elated as she felt.  Stannis must think her a giddy schoolgirl, but at least he had kissed her like the woman she was. It had been even more perfect than she had imagined.  She thought she was too excited to sleep, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, dreaming of Stannis and the promise of more perfect evenings to come.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Thank you so much for reading and for your wonderful comments!! It makes me SO happy to know that you are enjoying the story so far. After this chapter, I may post the next one relatively quickly but then there will be a brief hiatus. I was out of town last weekend, work has been crazy, and it will take me a bit to get caught up. I'm hoping it won't be very long. Thanks again for all of your amazing support!!


	9. Another Step Forward

 

Stannis stripped off his clothing and quickly entered the pool, the cool mountain water producing the desired result of shrinking his aching member to a less-distracting state.  After another restless night, and another morning of waking up aroused and thinking of Sansa, an early morning swim was blissfully refreshing. What had he expected? That actually courting Sansa, enjoying a romantic evening with her, and kissing her passionately, would make him think of her less often than when he had attempted to avoid her?  Of course not. Quite the contrary, he hadn’t stopped thinking of her for a moment since last night. Maybe, even before that, since she had also consumed his thoughts during the planning stages. What would make the evening special? What would please her most? Should he kiss her or not? Well, the evening _had_ been special, she did seemed pleased, and he _had_ kissed her, and he became more acutely aware than ever before just how much he desired her.  Now, instead of only an image of Sansa, he had the silken texture of her hair, the warm, honeyed taste of her lips, and the firm yet supple feel of her breasts pressing against his chest to contend with when he closed his eyes and thought of her.

 

In a way, it seemed normal, given that he was courting Sansa ─ at her request.  In other ways, it seemed improper, especially his seemingly unquenchable desire for her.  He was courting her, but to what end? How was this ever a good idea? Back in Westeros, in civil society, they might have married, and consummated that marriage.  Eventually they may have had children. But what was the endgame here on this remote island? There was no way for them to marry, even if he were to ask her, even if she would have him.  He wasn’t a religious man, but he couldn’t ask Sansa to live in sin as it were, just to satisfy his lust. There could be no future for them here as he saw it.

 

Stannis reached the waterfall and allowed the cool stream to massage his body.   He’d brought the soap that Sansa had made and began to wash himself, rubbing the cleansing substance onto his chest and working some into his hair.   The fragrance it produced immediately reminded him of their kiss last night, the smell of her hair, the soft texture of her skin, these had nearly overwhelmed him.  Even now, the memory of it was so vivid he longed for Sansa to be present so he could kiss her again with more passion than he could remember kissing any woman. To add to his frustration, as he was cleansing his more intimate areas, he felt himself becoming aroused once more.  He finished quickly and dove into the cool water, submerging himself while he willed his unruly body to stop betraying him.

 

Stannis emerged from the pool dripping, wiped his eyes, and ran his fingers over his wet hair, wringing out some of the water.  Returning to where he’d left his clothing, he was about to dress when he heard a sharp gasp from the nearby jungle. He froze when he saw Sansa at the edge of the trees, eyes wide and staring at his completely naked body.

 

“Stannis, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.

 

Whatever was left of Stannis’ erection after his swim vanished in an instant.  He no longer had to wonder if Sansa had seen a grown man naked before, because she was certainly getting an eyeful of his manly attributes.   _Why is she still staring?!_ Stannis quickly covered himself from the waist down by holding his blouse in front of him, until Sansa _finally_ turned her back to him and averted her eyes.  He felt his cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, as he knew Sansa’s must be.  He rushed to dress as fast as he could, and found that his voice had gone quite hoarse when he spoke.

 

“You may turn around.  I am fully clothed now.”

 

Sansa turned to face him, looking every bit as mortified as he felt.

 

“I thought you’d gone fishing, I didn’t know you’d be here. I─”

 

“There is no need to apologize.  It was an unfortunate chance occurrence.  How were you to know? We need not mention it again,” Stannis explained, trying not to avoid eye contact and make more out of this than it was, and yet wanting to look anywhere but at her face.  “I’ll leave you to your ablutions.”

 

He made to step around her to get to the trail, hoping to leave as soon as possible, when she stopped him by touching his arm.

 

“I wanted you to know that I had a lovely time last night,” she said shyly.  He was forced to make eye contact once more and the sincerity and warmth he saw written on Sansa’s face made his heart stutter.

 

“As did I,” he managed  What should he say next?  His mind was blank. He’d only just convinced himself that continuing their courtship was a bad idea.  Now she seemed to be hinting that she wanted more, and after seeing him naked no less. She was staring at him with those captivating eyes of hers that seemed to have the power to destroy his ability to think.

 

“Would you like to do it again?  Tonight?” he heard himself ask, the thought of Sansa allowing him to hold her close once more robbing him of any semblance of self-control.  

 

“I’d like that,” she answered, offering another shy smile.  “Would you allow me to prepare our meal this time?”

 

He nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak, until he realized that she was waiting for his answer.

 

“I’m looking forward to it,” he blurted out at last.

 

He couldn’t say more, not with the way she was gazing at him, which he thought might be flirting, but he couldn’t be certain, and so he left it at that.  His eyes lingered on her face for as long as possible as he continued past her, before he was forced to turn his attention to the trail so that he wouldn’t stumble and embarrass himself yet again.

 

~~~

Sansa put the finishing touches on the table, at least it was her version of a table.  She hoped Stannis would be pleased. Tonight they would be having shellfish, but instead of the usual snails and clams that were plentiful in the tide pools, she had spent that afternoon searching near the reef for the larger, more delicate tasting conchs.  It took some work, steaming the mollusks in their shells and removing them, but it was worth it for some variety. It had taken some time, but Sansa finally felt like the island was becoming more like a home, thanks to their resourcefulness. They’d already discovered that it was the little things that made the biggest difference in breaking up the monotony of their everyday diet.  Boiling sea water and extracting the salt, working for an entire day to crudely churn a tiny portion of coconut butter, or adding a bit of fruit, or a crust of toasted nuts to a fish dinner. All in all, it wasn’t any worse than having porridge for breakfast days on end when she was growing up at Winterfell.

 

What made her even happier, was that she’d found a shell with spines, and suddenly it had occurred to her that cleaned and boiled, it would serve as a comb!  For the first time in weeks she’d run a comb through her tangled hair. Some may have considered her vain, but she knew that vanity had little to do with it. The glorious feeling of grooming her long locks brought enough pleasure to banish any lingering doubts about misplaced priorities.  Besides, she wanted to make herself as presentable as possible for her second date with Stannis. Thinking of how romantic their last encounter had been, left her tingling with a nervous excitement.

 

As Sansa worked to prepare, she knew that it really wasn’t the actual dinner that had been on her mind most of the day.  It was what would happen after the dinner that had her feeling flustered in a way that she’d never before experienced. Would Stannis kiss her again?  She hadn’t stopped thinking about that first kiss since it had happened, or rather until she’d seen him naked, which had given her something else entirely to occupy her thoughts!  The sight of his male anatomy had been quite an unexpected surprise, but while it was embarrassing for them both, she hadn’t been at all frightened or intimidated in any way. On the contrary, their brief encounter made her contemplate what it would be like if they were to lie together intimately for the first time.  

 

She suspected she would always be a bit nervous about her first time lying with a man, but seeing Stannis naked had awakened something within her, the unexpected bloom of moisture between her legs, accompanied by that same feeling of emptiness that she had experienced after pleasuring herself, that made her realize that she wanted to be with Stannis in a way that proper ladies were not supposed to think about until their wedding nights.  He’d been magnificent, firm and lean, and as her eyes had followed the trail of dark hair from just below his sculpted abdominal muscles to his─ Her cheeks warmed at the very thought of _that_ part of him.  She’d wanted to go to him then, to touch him, to see how his body would respond to her caress, but she could tell he was embarrassed and knew it wasn’t the time or the place for such fancies.  

 

She should feel wicked for entertaining such lustful thoughts of lying with a man outside the sanctity of the marriage bed, and yet she did not.  What if they could never leave this island ─ could never marry? Should they live alone, in solitude, and without any hope of love? But, along with her erotic thoughts of being intimate with Stannis, came more sober thoughts of the consequences of such an act.  What if she were to become pregnant? Fear momentarily tempered her desire. There were no others here with her, no midwives, and not even a maester. Her mother wasn’t here to help her. There was a substantial probability of complications, and a possibility that she might die giving birth.  Even if the child was born healthy, was it practical to raise a child here, alone, with no other friends or family for company? These darker thoughts should have been enough to quench her curiosity about making love with Stannis, but they didn’t in the least. If anything, they made her feel closer to him than ever.  They had only each other for comfort and support.

 

Sansa was certain that she wanted to become more intimate with Stannis, they would just have to be careful.  There were ways. Though she lacked experience, she wasn’t _that_ naive.  Her mother, and Jeyne even more so, had confided to her some of the practices a lady could employ to keep a man interested until marriage, without falling pregnant.  She’d been mortified having the discussion with Catelyn; more attentive, but still unwilling to ask questions with her friend. Now, she wished that she’d learned more about these tried and true methods when she’d had the chance.  She wondered if Stannis was aware of them? She was especially curious about a thing called, The Lord’s Kiss. Of course Stannis would have some knowledge, having been married after all, but she felt that she would surely die from embarrassment were she to attempt to discuss them with him.  Would Stannis even be interested in becoming more intimate with her, without the act of intercourse? Didn’t that make her a harlot or a tease, a term she’d overheard Robb use with his friends when talking about women? It was all so confusing and Sansa’s mind was filled with a jumble of questions seemingly without any answers.  

 

“Sansa?  Is everything all right?”

 

She was startled from her thoughts by the appearance of Stannis. She hadn’t noticed his approach.  She could see his brow wrinkled with worry as he studied her in the fading light. Though he had no way of reading her thoughts, she felt the blush of her embarrassment at being caught fantasizing about him rising from her neck to her ears and tinting her face a vivid red.  Hopefully the light was dim enough for him not to notice.

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assured him.  “I was just thinking about dinner.”  

 

Sansa had always been a terrible liar, and she could see him studying her as if not quite convinced that she was being truthful.  She offered him a subtle smile, still feeling a little awkward, both from their encounter that morning and what she now realized were her scandalous intentions toward him.  The feeling disappeared when Stannis held out his hand.

 

“These are for you,” he said, presenting her with a small bouquet of flowers he had been holding at his side.  They were a gorgeous assortment of orchids and lillies, all painted in vivid colors.

 

“Stannis, they’re beautiful!”  She nearly squealed with delight at his thoughtfulness as she took them from him.  “I’ll find something to put them in for the table.”

 

She began looking around for an empty coconut shell to serve as a vase.

 

“I thought you might put one in your hair,” he said, taking a step closer and touching her elbow to still her.  Her eyes immediately found his, and the hot energy of his gaze made her lose all thought of what she’d been doing.  Selecting a flower from the bunch she held out to him, Stannis broke off the stem, holding it in his left hand as he reached for her with his right.  She stepped closer, as his long fingers brushed aside the strands of hair covering her ear, and lingered there, gently stroking.

 

“So soft...” he whispered as if he were talking to himself, his mouth now only inches from hers, his eyes studying her face like a map.

 

“Stannis,” she murmured, willing him with all her being to kiss her.

 

He didn’t keep her waiting, but lowered his mouth to hers, brushing her lips with light kisses, hesitant at first, as if he thought her too fragile to withstand the full measure of his passion.  

 

“Please,” she implored, her need to taste him deeply intensifying by the second.  The flowers slipped from her hand as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her close.  She was instantly aware of her breasts pressing against his chest as she wrapped her hands around his neck and their mouths joined hungrily.  It was as if they’d begun again where they had left off the previous night. Being in Stannis’ arms felt absolutely perfect, and she had no reservations about allowing her hands to roam over the firm muscles of his shoulders and back as she savored his lips, and the gentle caress of his tongue against her own.  

 

Even after last night, she felt inexperienced in such activities, and was happy to let Stannis take the lead, tilting his head to achieve the proper angle, and sucking on her lower lip as she closed her eyes tightly, surrendering to her pleasure.  She became aware of his hands on her own back, massaging her gently and gathering her even closer against his lean torso. Yet for Sansa, the incessant longing between her legs reminded her that Stannis wasn’t close enough, She wanted to be touched all over, and in ways that she didn’t have the courage to express.  Perhaps if they made themselves more comfortable.

 

“Would you sit beside me?” She offered shyly when his mouth left hers for the briefest instant so that both of them could take a much needed breath.  She had positioned the cushion and a portion of sailcloth on a nearby dune, so they might be protected somewhat from the sand.

 

Stannis made no protest as she took his hand, led him over, and pulled him down with her.  He didn’t hesitate, as soon as Sansa leaned back, he covered her mouth with his own and continued to kiss her soundly.  His beard tickled her skin, but she didn’t mind in the least. If Sansa thought it had been wonderful kissing Stannis before, this was even better.  His body half covered her, and though she wasn’t bearing the full measure of his weight, she could feel the bulk of him pressing against her, flattening her breasts against the firmness of his chest even harder than before, causing her nipples to stiffen from the sustained contact.  Stannis’ leg moved between the two of hers, which she parted instinctively, in order to grant him better access.

 

Sansa was nearly overcome with sensation, for even as she was intently focused on Stannis’ mouth, exploring with her tongue and savoring the taste of him, she was acutely aware that his thigh now rested upon her own, and with a slight lift of her leg, her mound was positioned up against it.  She was also aware of something else pressing solidly against her down there, which even a woman as inexperienced as she knew must be his manhood straining against his breeches. That sent a shiver of excitement coursing through her body. She gasped in pleasure when he shifted slightly, unintentionally rubbing her most sensitive area, which caused him to pull back and study her closely.

 

“Are you alright?”  He asked, his voice a thick growl.  “Should I stop?”

 

Sansa was nearly delirious with joy, for he had actually asked her, and yet clearly he did not wish to stop any more than she, for his face was flushed and his eyes heavy-lidded with desire.  He was every bit the gentleman she knew him to be. She never imagined anything feeling as good as having Stannis this close, holding his firm body tightly against her own, and allowing her hands and lips to explore him where they would.  She never wanted it to end.

 

“No, please don’t stop,” she whispered, and without giving him a choice, slipped her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to her again.  He looked slightly startled by her boldness, but also as if he’d lost any will to resist her advances, and quickly resumed, returning her kiss with renewed vigor.  Encouraged by his obvious passion for her, Sansa began to practice her kissing technique, sucking provocatively on his lower lip, as he had done to her, and making slightly more liberal use of her teeth, which he’d seemed to enjoy during their last encounter, before they separated to catch their breaths.  

 

Sansa experienced a delightful warmth enveloping her, the insistent ache of desire thrumming through her veins.  She studied Stannis’ face, willing him to attempt even bolder acts of passion, but to her dismay, he seemed to have realized how intimately his leg was positioned in relation to her body and appeared to be on the verge of disengaging with her.  Desperation drove her to raise up from her reclining pose and place her hand on his bare chest, where his blouse gaped open above the middle button. She caressed him, tracing the defining line of his pectoral muscle and reaching even further inside to explore the rise of his ribcage.  

 

“Sansa,” he whispered softly, his eyes questioning her activities.  “We should─”

 

Fearing that he was about to start remembering all the reasons why he shouldn’t be kissing her, Sansa interrupted.

 

“Lie back,” she instructed, using her hand to coax him off of her and into a reclining position where she had been a moment ago.   “Please.” She implored, when he hesitated. Slowly, he complied with her request until they had exchanged positions and Stannis was the one lying back as Sansa sat beside him.  Monitoring his face for signs of disapproval, Sansa carefully untied the belt around her waist and removed her sailcloth skirt, exposing her legs.

 

“Sansa,” Stannis began, eyeing her warily.

 

“I’m only getting comfortable,” she quickly interjected, trying on her best seductive smile.   She placed the cloth aside, and folded her legs up against Stannis’, which had the added effect of making the hem of her chemise rise even farther up her thighs.  Stannis’ eyes were fixed upon her bare legs like a starving man gazing at a roasted hen. She then reached behind her head and untied the ribbon keeping her hair back, allowing it to fall freely upon her shoulders, and giving her head a slight shake to loosen it more naturally.  Stannis carefully reached out to touch it, as if he were in a trance, his fingers becoming entangled in her long mane. He no longer seemed interested in ending their date prematurely.

 

Sansa didn’t waste any time, leaning over him and placing her lips on his once more, stifling the potential for any further protest.  Immediately, she found this new position had its advantages, for as she and Stannis returned to kissing each other deeply, his hands moved first to her waist to steady her and then slowly drifted lower.  She sighed contentedly when she felt the warmth of his palm cupping her buttock over her thin clothing, coaxing her to move closer. She immediately obliged, draping one leg over his and scooting forward.  Once again this had the added reward of rubbing her mound against the firm muscle of his thigh, the acute pleasure of the contact converting her sigh into a moan.

 

Stannis seemed to be enjoying himself as well, taking a moment to brush her long hair, which was splayed across his chest, away from her face and kissing first her cheek and then the back of her jaw near her earlobe.  She closed her eyes and softly moaned again when his lips found an especially sensitive area on her neck. She wanted him to kiss every inch of her if he so desired. When his hand found her bare leg, caressing her lower thigh and gliding over her knee and downward to her calf, giving it a gentle squeeze, she was pleasantly surprised when Stannis made a sound not unlike her pet direwolf, Lady, at feeding time, something between a growl and a whine.

 

Unfortunately, the sound of his own voice must have roused Stannis from his dream-like state for he lifted his head and focused his gaze on Sansa’s face as if seeing her for the first time.  He took a deep breath and let it out before speaking.

 

“Sansa, we should stop,” he said, not very convincingly, but still removing his hands from her body.

 

“Why should we stop?” she asked innocently, leaning forward and nuzzling his neck like a kitten, her hair draping across his chest like a blanket.  “Are you growing tired of kissing me?” she added, toying with the top button of his blouse.

 

He made a strangled sound and cleared his throat before answering.

 

“No, it isn’t that.  I could never─ That is to say─”

 

“Then, what is the reason we should stop, if we are both enjoying ourselves?” She began to pet his chest, and placed a moist kiss at the corner of lips.

 

She could see his resolve wavering before her eyes, but still he did not surrender to her attentions.  Stannis was the most stubborn man she’d ever met.

 

“You are too young and innocent to understand,” he explained, his tone uncertain as he fixed his gaze on the hand caressing his chest.  “Men have─ needs─ that sometimes cause them to behave inappropriately. I would be taking advantage of you.”

 

“Do you feel that you’ve been taking advantage?” Sansa asked softly.  “I gave you my permission after all.”

 

Her hand casually drifted lower, gliding over his stomach and coming to rest upon his thigh.

 

“To kiss you yes,” he answered, his tone growing concerned.  “But not to─”

 

“I am aware of the needs of men,” she interrupted, staring pointedly at the obvious bulge that Stannis’ breeches did little to hide. “Of _your_ needs.”

 

“But, surely you have no _experience_?” Stannis protested, his mouth dropping open and the flush on his face from their recent activities growing darker still.

 

“No!” Sansa assured him. “Of course not.  Mother was a midwife, and I am quite close to my good sister-by-marriage.  Married women…ladies─ discuss these things.”

 

Her voice grew softer, as she grew self-conscious from the turn the conversation was taking, but her resolve was steadfast.  She could not bear their relationship to return to what it had been. They were closer now than ever, and she would convince him that there was nothing improper about enjoying themselves and each other.

 

Stannis did not respond, as if he had lost his voice, or had no words.  His mouth moved silently and she noticed a prominent vein on the side of his forehead pulsing as if it would burst.  She took a deep breath and slowly moved her hand to cup the outline of his straining manhood.

 

Stannis’ reaction was immediate, his hand shooting out to cover her own, freezing it in place, but she was encouraged that he made no attempt to remove it.  He closed his eyes and forced his words through a clenched jaw.

 

“Sansa, you mustn’t do this!  I will not be responsible for your corruption.”

 

“I want to do this,” she implored, giving him a gentle squeeze which caused him to close his eyes and groan.  “I am a woman grown and you are not responsible for my corruption. That is to say, I do not feel the least bit corrupted in doing that which brings us both pleasure.  This does bring you pleasure does it not?” She asked, moving her hand over him now that he’d loosened his grip slightly, which produced another groan from deep within his chest.  His obviously affirmative response ridded her of any lingering doubts she might have had that she was being too aggressive.

 

Having learned that it was easier to convince Stannis to do what she wanted if he wasn’t allowed too much time to think, she decided to try and make him more comfortable.  She began by pressing herself against him again, and kissing him on the mouth once more. This seemed to have the desired effect of relaxing him somewhat and he released a contented sigh and began to return her affections at once.  Soon, he removed his hand from over hers and finding the back of her head, he began stroking her hair.

 

Feeling that he time was right, Sansa pulled away and offered him a sultry smile.  Lowering her head, she began kissing the exposed areas of his neck and chest, emboldened when Stannis made no move to stop her, but instead continued to stroke her hair, and the sides of her face from his reclining position beneath her.  Reaching the buttons of his blouse, she made short work of them, exposing his torso fully for her hands and lips to explore. Captivated, she traced the outline of each smooth muscle like a map, though she’d seen men without shirts before, and she was soon distracted by the trail of hair leading down beneath his waistband and the forbidden territory she hoped to enter.  

 

Her fingers began to work at the laces of Stannis’ breeches and she felt his hand tighten on the back of her head.  She glanced up, fearing that he was going to make her stop again. His eyes glowed with a smoldering heat and the vein continued to throb on his forehead.  She’d never seen a more conflicted expression on a man’s face.

 

“Sansa─” he pleaded, as if begging her to make the decision for him.

 

“Let me do this for you,” she whispered, her smile conveying all of the warmth and desire she felt for him.  He swallowed hard and the slight nod of his head was all that she needed to continue.

 

Sansa made short work of the laces, and was startled when his stiff cock practically sprang free of its own volition, as if eager to greet her.  She stared at it a moment in awe, for this was not the same part of Stannis she’d observed that very morning. She hadn’t expected it to grow so large, and angry looking─ a dark shade of crimson.  Still, she was more impressed than fearful, and briefly wondered what would happen if she were to kiss him there? Suddenly, a term Jeyne had used came into her head with a rush. _Some women are quite good at sword swallowing._ She had no idea what she was talking about at the time, and what swords had to do with love making, but now it made perfect sense!  Sansa’s face turned a shade as dark as Stannis’ cock. She couldn’t even imagine Stannis’ reaction if she were to suggest such an activity, considering how difficult it had been to get his permission to even touch him there, but even more surprising was the effect the idea of it had on her own body, causing an unexpected wave of arousal to wash over her and crest between her legs.  She put the thought out of her mind for the moment and suppressed the urge to touch herself. This was about pleasing Stannis, and one thing she did understand was that men touched themselves to release tension, as women did, and that Stannis seemed to be in need of her assistance. She only hoped that she could do it right.

 

Sansa began by tentatively tracing her finger around the head and down the shaft, causing Stannis’ manhood to jump, and a hiss of breath to escape from his lips.  She was shocked by the intensity of the heat beneath her fingertip, but also by the softness of the skin that was draped around the head like a scarf. She touched him with the rest of her hand, caressing him as if petting a cat, and was again surprised by the firm, heaviness of him.  She wrapped her hand around the shaft and gently stroked upwards, pulling the skin with her, which caused Stannis to wince.

 

“Please─ Sansa─” he groaned, biting his lip and tensing.  She could tell he was frustrated and she must not be doing what he wanted.

 

“You’ll have to show me,” she admitted, wrapping her hand around his member.

 

She could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that he was too far gone to object and she didn’t have to tell him twice.  He grasped her hand with his own and forced her to squeeze him more tightly than she’d expected. She looked to him for instruction when he didn’t move right away.

 

“It’s better with lubrication,” he explained, hesitantly.

 

Sansa immediately understood, thinking of her own pleasure.  Now the sword swallowing made even more sense. She gently removed her hand from his grasp and held it to her mouth, moistening it with a long lick from palm to fingertips.

 

“Seven hells,” Stannis gasped, as she gripped him again, this time coating him with her natural lubricant.

 

His hand covered hers in an instant, gripping her firmly and guiding her to move up and down in a motion far more vigorous than she could have ever imagined would be pleasing to him

 

“Like this─” he panted, his breathing becoming heavier by the second, “Harder─ don’t stop.”

 

His erection grew even stiffer than she’d thought possible as he used her hand to pleasure himself.  Sansa was amazed at the silky texture of the skin and how the head revealed itself, bringing additional moisture to aid her movement.  Stannis eventually let go when she had got the gist of it, surrendering himself to her ministrations. She watched him carefully for his likes and dislikes, but she felt more confident now.  He was incredibly attractive with his head tilted back, his eyes closed tightly, and biting his lip every time her hand came into contact with the tip of his manhood. Her heart swelled more and more with each blissful groan she coaxed from him, as her hand flew faster and faster.  She was beginning to feel some discomfort in her wrist when Stannis tensed and reached for her arm, a strangled sound caught in his throat.

 

She was surprised by a surge of moisture filling her hand, hot and wet, and quickly turning sticky.  She was certain that Stannis expected her to be shocked, but she’d never witnessed a man spill his seed before, and she found it quite fascinating.  There was more of it, and it was messier than she’d imagined.

 

“Sansa, I’m sorry!” Stannis exclaimed, looking mortified now that he’d come to his senses.  “I should have warned you.”

 

She flexed and shook her hand to loosen the tension, and to remove some of the sticky material.  Without thinking, she inserted a finger into her mouth to clean it, but also because she was curious about the taste.  His seed tasted slightly bitter and salty, not unlike seawater when it got in her mouth sometimes, and oddly appropriate for a sea Captain.  She wondered if all men tasted the same, or if this was unique to Stannis. She giggled at that thought, and from the way Stannis was looking at her with a mixture of horror and contentment.  

 

Her giddiness was contagious thankfully, because soon Stannis was unable to suppress a smile and a snort of laughter of his own.  She was overcome with a feeling of satisfaction and relief. Neither spoke for a moment as they regained their composure and Sansa tried not to indulge her curiosity by staring at his member as it grew flaccid and returned to the state she had observed that morning.   Whether he was aware of her interest in his anatomy or not, Stannis quickly returned himself to his breeches and did up the laces.

 

“Sansa,” he said when he was finished, capturing her eyes with his own, now full of seriousness.  “I want to thank you.”

 

The way Stannis was looking at her caused an explosion of warmth in Sansa’s heart.  At the same time she was struck with a multitude of conflicting emotions. After what they had just done, she’d never felt more like a woman.  She felt proud and elated and sensuous in a way she had never experienced before. She’d also never felt closer to a man, or maybe to anyone for that matter.  Was she falling in love with Stannis? She was pretty certain that she was. The thought made her excited and nervous at the same time. What if he didn’t feel the same?  At the moment though, his eyes told her he did.

 

She was also more than a little frustrated, the pressure between her legs and the sensitivity of her nipples rudely informing her that Stannis had not returned the favor that she had given him.  Did he even suspect what she wanted from him? However, the thought of bringing up the subject after what had just happened, made her more anxious than she was frustrated, so she decided to save that conversation for later.  The only thing she wanted at the moment was some time to absorb it all, to wash up, and to eat, for the grumbling in her belly had reminded her that they hadn’t had dinner.

 

“Dinner is getting cold, I’m afraid.”  She said, taking the easier path and changing the subject.  “I’m going to wash up before serving it, if you will excuse me.”

 

“Of course,” Stannis answered, his expression still hovering somewhere between guilty and giddy.

 

He assisted her to her feet, and Sansa bent over to pick up her skirt.  Shaking off the sand, she was about to put it on again when Stannis stopped her.

 

“I don’t think there is any need for that now,” he said, studying her face intently.  “Your legs are beautiful, and you should dress in whatever way makes you comfortable. We aren’t in Westeros and there is no need to conform to the latest fashion here.”

 

Sansa couldn’t believe her ears.  It seemed that the Captain was finally beginning to relax and enjoy himself.  The frustration she had been feeling began to subside. She decided to save any worries about the future until the morrow, and to relax and enjoy the rest of her evening with Stannis.  They had all the time in the world to find the answers to her questions. She tossed the skirt aside and walked toward the tide pools to wash her hands. Sneaking a glance over her shoulder, she smiled as she caught Stannis staring at her legs. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little longer to tide you over until the next chapter. As always thanks for reading!


	10. The Naked Truth

 

Stannis lay on his back and stared up at the leafy roof of the shelter.  He had awoken early that morning, feeling like both the luckiest man on earth and the most contemptible.  He was stranded on this island with the most beautiful, warmest, most generous woman in the world. Not only that, for some reason he couldn’t even begin to understand, she found him attractive ─ she even wanted to have a romantic relationship with him ─ which made him incredibly lucky.  Instead of worshiping the ground she walked upon, as he should have done, he had allowed her to lower herself for his sexual gratification. Sure, she had said that she wanted to do it. She had offered to take care of his _need_ , and it had felt like ─ like the most erotic experience of his life!  Selyse had certainly never offered to do anything more sexually adventurous with him than what was absolutely necessary to produce offspring.  When it became obvious that children were not in their future, she stopped having sex with him, or even showing him any sort of affection for that matter.  He didn’t blame her really, she had never wanted to marry him. They were entirely unsuited for one another, so it was no surprise that their sexual relations were as much of a failure as the rest of their marriage.  

 

That was why he had been absolutely staggered when Sansa had enticed him to court her, and even more so when she had invited him to kiss her.  These past few days he’d been walking around like a man in a dream ─ a perfect, idyllic dream. Holding Sansa close, kissing her, running his fingers through her silky hair, had provided him more happiness, and more hope for future happiness, than he’d ever imagined possible.  Then, he’d allowed his carnal desire for her to overwhelm his reason! He couldn’t fathom what had made him give in to such a beastly impulse. Maybe he’d dreamed the whole thing? Maybe it was just a vivid fantasy? Surely he hadn’t allowed the Lady Sansa to treat him to a wank like one of Robert’s Fleabottom tarts!  In the sober light of morning, he knew it had been no fantasy. His encounter with Sansa had been real, and she was no Fleabottom tart for sale. Sansa was a lady, a well mannered lady, and still she had wanted to do _that_ for him.  She even seemed to have enjoyed doing it!  He couldn’t make his mind grasp how any of what was happening to him on this island was remotely possible.  Maybe he was really dead, drowned at sea, and he was in a sort of purgatory where he’d been sent to live in confusion for all of eternity.

 

Suddenly, he heard Sansa groan from the other side of the partition, and the rustling of leaves as she shifted position.  Was something wrong? He sat up, fully awake and listening intently. There was silence for a moment, filled only by the ocean breeze, then he thought he heard her sigh; a strange, provocative sigh.

 

“Stannis…”

 

She said his name as clear as day, but it was obvious she wasn’t yet awake.   It sounded like she was having a dream, but her movements seemed odd, almost as if she were writhing in her sleep.

 

“Mmmmm.”

 

The sound she made next caused him to become uncomfortably hot, sending his blood pulsing to his groin.  He was astounded and aroused by the thought that struck him. Was she having an erotic dream ─ about _him_?!  He didn’t wish to disturb her sleep, but─

 

“Sansa? Is everything all right?” He felt compelled to ask, just in case she was truly in distress.

 

There was silence for a moment followed by more rustling.

 

“S-Stannis?” Came the murmured question at last.

 

“Yes, it’s just me.  Sorry to wake you, but I thought you might be in distress.”

 

“Distress? Why would you think that?”

 

“You were making…sounds ─ unusual sounds.”

 

Stannis winced.  He sounded desperate even to his own ears.  He started to feel very guilty about waking her, just to satisfy his own curiosity.

 

“Was I?  Unusual in what manner?”

 

Was it his imagination or was she toying with him?  He could have sworn he’d heard her muffled snort of laughter.  He stared at the partition that, while not completely solid, obscured her enough that he couldn’t be sure of her facial expression.  She was sitting up, he thought. Anyway, he had to answer now.

 

“You were moaning.”

 

“Oh, that.  I was having a _dream_.”  

 

The way in which she savored the word gave it more than a hint of innuendo.  She _was_ toying with him, he was sure of it!

 

“There is no cause for your concern ─ at present,” she added cryptically.

 

What did does she mean by _at present_? He wondered, more confused than ever.  Before he could respond, she rose from her pallet and stretched.

 

“I’ll join you for breakfast shortly,” she announced before taking her leave.

 

Stannis waited a few minutes in order to give her some privacy, then exited the shelter.  After attending to his own personal necessities, he found Sansa enjoying a bite of fruit. His eyes lingered over her for a moment, her beauty taking his breath.  She was flawless in the soft morning light, like a divine sea nymph, the gentle breeze sifting through her long auburn hair and making it dance like the flames of a fire.  Again, he found it beyond his comprehension that such a beautiful woman was not only stranded here with him, but was allowing him to court her. As he approached, he wondered whether the intimacy of the previous evening would leave her acting awkwardly toward him this morning.

 

He needn’t have worried, for Sansa’s smile melted away his concerns as she drew him into her arms and petted his beard.

 

“Good morning,” she greeted him softly, before gracing his lips with a gentle, yet intimate kiss which lasted long enough for him to experience another flicker of desire.  He briefly entertained the idea of making love to her right there on the sand, until his conscience quickly restrained him.

 

“Good morning,” he answered, reluctantly allowing her to pull away in order to offer him an assortment of fruit and coconut.

 

“You slept well, I take it?”  He asked, curiosity about her dream still gnawing at him.  Why wouldn’t she just admit it was about him?

 

“ _Very_ well, thank you.”  Her smile was suspiciously enigmatic, and she offered nothing more by way of explanation.  “And you, did you sleep well?”

 

“Yes. I slept well too.”  

 

Stannis felt his cheeks warm at the memory of how Sansa’s actions the previous evening had satisfied him to such an extent that he’d slept more soundly than he had in days.  Deciding it would be better not to allow his thoughts to dwell too long on their recent encounter, he quickly changed the subject.

 

“I was planning on going up the mountain today to work on building a signal fire.  It would be best if we moved our main camp to that location as soon as possible, if we are to maximize our chances of a rescue.”

 

“I’ll go with you.  It’s so beautiful up there,” Sansa answered, her face lighting up. “I think I’ll have a bath at the waterfall on the way.”

 

Stannis nodded, trying, and failing, not to picture Sansa naked.  He watched as she gathered some provisions, including soap and the shell comb she’d been using for her hair.  She began to walk away, and he remained behind to give her some time alone. Just as she was entering the cover of the jungle, she called to him unexpectedly.

 

“You’re welcome to join me if you’d like!”

 

It took him a moment to process what she’d said, and when he realized that she’d just offered him a chance to bathe with her, his heart stopped, and for a moment his head swam as if he were having heat stroke.  He looked to her for further clarification, but she had disappeared into the jungle. For once, he didn’t waste time thinking it through before taking action. Grabbing a few necessities he’d packed earlier, he practically ran to catch up with Sansa.

 

As he made his way down the path, Stannis lagged behind Sansa, not even trying to strike up a conversation.  One reason was that he was carrying a few bulky items needed for digging at the new campsite, which hindered his progress.  The other being that Sansa seemed to be in a rush to beat him there, which made him wonder if she was just teasing him. Surely she didn’t mean that they would bathe together ─ naked?  He had simply misunderstood, his filthy mind conjuring up inappropriate scenarios once again. When he reached the pool a few moments after her, his question was immediately answered, as he was treated to the glorious sight of Sansa stripping off her chemise and diving into the water, all her femininity on display for his eyes alone.  If he’d thought her the image of a nymph that morning, she was even more so now, rising from the water, her long hair flowing down past her shoulders and parting to reveal her ample breasts, crowned by two thimble sized, nipples the color of red velvet. A fantasy of himself as the sea god, ravishing her at the water’s edge, lept into his brain and had him hardening in seconds.

 

“Come and join me!” She exclaimed, laughing, he could only assume at his wide-eyed expression.  “Bring the soap,” she added, pointedly arranging her hair so that it more discreetly covered her bosom.

 

Stannis looked around and noticed the soap container not too far from his feet.  Cursing his ill-timed erection, he considered entering the water fully clothed, but then decided that would seem odd, given Sansa’s nudity.  He dropped the items he was carrying and began to undress, turning his back to Sansa in order to obscure his member from her view. Stepping out of his breeches, he felt very self-conscious, despite reminding himself of the fact that this would not be the first time that Sansa had him naked ─ or aroused.  Setting nagging doubts aside, he quickly grabbed the soap before slipping into the water and wading over to join her.

 

The cool water wasn’t nearly deep enough where Sansa stood for his liking, not even covering his thighs.  Any hopes he’d had of hiding his unruly manhood underwater were abandoned when he reached her. Still, he was unprepared for her reaction.

 

“Is that for me?” She asked, an eyebrow raised as her eyes glanced downward.

 

Even after last night he was shocked by her boldness!  However, shock turned to embarrassment when she reached out and took a dollop of soap from the container that he held at his side.

 

“Thank you,” she said innocently, meeting his gaze. “Just what I needed.”

 

He suspected she was playing at seducing him by the way her tongue delicately moistened her lower lip, directing his attention straight to her mouth.  He was even more convinced, when she applied the soap to her hair, working it into her scalp and moving downward, drawing his gaze to her bosom as she began to wash herself there.  Her fingers moved in a circular motion, accentuating the roundness of her breasts, tempting him to touch them. Struggling to ignore the growing ache between his legs, Stannis moved behind her, the water being slightly deeper there, but still not deep enough to bring any relief for his problem.

 

“Would you kindly wash my back?” She asked, coyly, moving her hair to the side and turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.  

 

Stannis didn’t hesitate, the thought of Sansa allowing him to touch her bare skin caused his heart to skip a beat.  He scooped a portion of soap with his fingers and applied it to her back, then used his palm to massage it over the smooth expanse of porcelain skin, moving across her shoulders and down the gentle curve of her spine.  He marveled at how large his hand appeared against the small of her back, just above the flare of her hips. She seemed so delicate, yet her muscles were firm and strong. His mind utterly focused on Sansa, he allowed the husk containing the soap to float away, wrapping both hands around her waist and caressing downward to cup the pliable globes of her buttocks.  Squeezing her there, drew a groan of pleasure from her throat, and caused her to lean back against him. The subtle movement brought the tip of his now acutely throbbing erection into contact with her bottom, allowing it to slip ever so slightly between her legs and nestle snugly against her thighs.

 

“Bloody hell,” he cursed under his breath, grinding his teeth from the effort it took to keep from thrusting rudely against her.  Instead, he lowered his mouth to her delicate neck, arching swan-like before his face, and trailed heated kisses down the side. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of her skin and the heady scent of her hair that was so distinctly Sansa.  Instinctively, his arms enfolded her, drawing her closer, his hands gliding across her soap slickened skin to her breasts, cupping them. He fondled them carefully, in awe at their volume, and firm, yet supple composition.

 

“Stannis,” she hissed, her nipples hardening beneath the friction of his palms.  “That feels so good.”

 

Her words barely penetrated the fog of lust that had enveloped his brain.  He was doing something right at least, and she didn’t seem to want him to stop.  As he continued to kiss her neck and shoulder, his hands moved downward, coming to rest low across her belly, touching the top of her mound. Thankfully, she steered him in the right direction, taking his hands and moving them lower still.  Even a man as confused as he was by the mysteries of a woman’s body, understood when Sansa parted her legs slightly that she wanted his fingers to touch her _there_.  He immediately obliged, delving his long fingers between her satin folds and tentatively stroking.  It wasn’t as if he’d never touched a woman this intimately before, but he’d never been encouraged to linger there.  Sansa seemed to want him to continue, so he took the opportunity to explore; his fascination with the tactile sensation of the pillow-like petals surrounding her entrance causing him to ignore the persistent pressure between his own legs.  

 

Very soon it became clear that Sansa did indeed enjoy his ministrations, as she began squirming against his hand, forcing him to rub harder.  She continued to push back against him, leaning into his chest and chewing her lip to muffle her increasingly frequent sounds of pleasure. Sansa locked her hands over his, holding them in place so that he couldn’t remove them even if he had wanted to.  Occasionally she coaxed him to adjust the position of a particular finger, changing the angle or directing him to press harder or more gently. He quickly learned that she preferred a circular motion with medium pressure, and that encountering the rigid nub at the peak of her entrance always produced an audible gasp.  Sometimes, the tip of his finger would slip inside her sex, penetrating her up to a knuckle, and she would moan and squeeze his hand tightly between her thighs.

 

It wasn’t long until Sansa had become quite wet, and despite his efforts to prevent his hips from thrusting forward, her undulating movements had the effect of sliding his erection even deeper between her legs.  She must have been aware of it too, Stannis realized. Of course she would be, having something that large insistently poking against her. It took him longer than it should have to discover that she was enjoying that part of him too, which was serving a similar purpose, and perhaps satisfying her even more than his fingers.  Parting her legs a bit more, she thrust her bottom back against him, her heated flesh stroking him with the friction he craved. It was his turn to groan, pressing his lips against her ear.

 

“Gods, Sansa…”

 

Together they found a rhythm, and he began rocking his hips, slowly at first, then picking up the pace, increasing his pleasure proportionally as the full length of his erection rubbed against her sex.  Although the friction wasn’t quite enough to bring him to release, the sexual stimulation that Sansa was so obviously experiencing was more than enough motivation to keep him going. Spooning her tightly, he could feel her breathing accelerating against his chest.  By elevating the angle of entry, he had Sansa practically sitting on his cock, and although he wasn’t inside her, it was almost as if they were fucking just the same, with his hard shaft, slick from her juices sliding between her folds. Most of the sounds that Sansa made were incoherent, though occasionally he heard his name, usually when the head of his cock made contact with the stiff flesh at the crest of her opening.  

 

It wasn’t much longer until Sansa’s movements became more irregular, almost rough, and he shifted his hands to steady her, holding her at the inside crease of her thighs where he could still use his fingers to toy with her nub, supplementing her pleasure as she rode him.  Sansa began to grind against him more forcefully, and he sensed that she was approaching a climax, which he had heard some women could achieve, but had no personal experience on which to draw. He tried to focus on her unspoken demands, adjusting his rhythm and the angle of his thrusts as necessary, but the increasing pressure in his sac rudely informed him that his own body was in need of release.  

 

Suddenly, Sansa arched her back, hands splashing into the water, clutching his legs as she vocalized his name with a strangled cry.  He felt her inner muscles clench, as did her thighs, squeezing his cock almost painfully as she continued to grind herself against him. She panted a few moments more, her chest heaving before she began to relax.  He watched in wonder, his own need nearly forgotten as she slowly melted in his arms, all the tension draining from her body. She released a heavy, contented sigh, and turned to face him, encircling his neck with her arms and pulling him into a heated kiss.

 

“That was even better than the dream,” she whispered against his ear.  “Thank you.”

 

Elated as he was at being able to satisfy Sansa’s lust, the throbbing ache between his legs brought Stannis back to the reality of his situation.  He was painfully aroused and in want of immediate relief. Sansa realized it too, as his erection was pressing rudely against her thigh as she held him.

 

“Maybe I can help you with that?” She teased.  

 

Stannis’ mind was blank, the need to take himself in hand so urgent that he couldn’t process her words.  He was about to do just that, when Sansa spotted the soap drifting nearby and grabbed a liberal dollop on her fingers.  

 

She met his gaze with a sultry assurance that she knew what she was doing this time, and eagerly set to work.  Her hands were more skilled that morning than they had been the previous evening, and the soap allowed them to glide over his skin with the speed he craved.  The sight of her naked body in front of him, was all the eroitc stimulation he needed. Soon he was palming her breasts, and trying to keep from thrusting his hips as her hands became a blur of motion.

 

“Harder, Sansa...please!” he growled, closing his eyes as his vision began to blur.  The next moment he was spilling his seed, making an embarrassing sound of ecstasy as his climax overwhelmed his senses.

 

They held each other close for a few moments after his vision had returned, and he managed to regain his breath, contentedly kissing and stroking each other’s bodies.  Stannis now knew for a fact that paradise was not merely a place, but a state of mind that he had achieved in Sansa’s arms. He almost didn’t need to be rescued, when everything he wanted was right here.  He was surprised when Sansa voiced nearly the same sentiment.

 

“Being rescued doesn’t seem quite so important now, but I suppose we should finish our baths and start heading up the mountain.  Shouldn’t we?” She sighed.

 

“Y-Yes, of course,” he answered, feeling slightly off center having Sansa behaving as the practical one for once.

 

“Perhaps we had better wash ourselves privately this time, or we may get distracted again,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling with happiness.  She submerged, rinsing off her hair before turning on her back to propel herself gracefully toward the waterfall.

 

“Indeed,” Stannis sighed, quite content to stay where they were for the rest of the day, watching Sansa swimming naked, and washing her back, but knowing she was right.   On the other hand, he didn’t see any need to rush. The mountain wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were they.

 


	11. A New Beginning

 

Nearly a month had passed since they’d begun construction of the new campsite.  As Sansa gathered the last of her meager belongings in preparation for the move to their mountain home, she glanced once again at the jungle treeline and hoped Stannis would return soon.  She wanted him to take some time to relax, and also to have a conversation that she’d been putting off for the past few days. Stannis had been working extremely hard building the new shelter, digging a firepit for cooking, and clearing an additional area for a signal fire.  Although Sansa had assisted in bringing materials up the mountain, and lended a hand in assembling walls or sections of the roof when necessary, the majority of the physical labor had been performed by Stannis. In order to be the most helpful, she had taken over all of the food gathering and preparation, and had made numerous trips between the two camps making sure that Stannis was well fed.  Many days they slept apart, Stannis camping on the mountain due to his long work day, and Sansa sleeping in the shelter on the beach so she could get an early start fishing in the mornings. The arrangement also kept her and Stannis out of each other’s way since it was nearly impossible for her to prepare food on the mountain, as Stannis had so many construction materials strewn about. 

 

Sansa folded her new outfit, a sleeveless, V-neck, short-skirted dress that was tasteful, yet accentuated her bosom and long legs nicely.  She had created it from the long skirt she had once worn to placate Stannis’ delicate sense of propriety.  _ Not just Stannis. _  Forcing herself to be honest, she would have to admit that at the time she too had found baring her calves a bit scandalous. Thinking about it brought a smile to Sansa’s face.  Things were very different now, and not just her wardrobe. The dress was symbolic of how her relationship with Stannis had changed, but also for how she had grown as a woman. She was no longer the young debutant aboard the Fury who had been missing her trunk full of party dresses.  Admittedly, sometimes she missed her stylish former wardrobe, and the parties she attended dressed in her finery with all eyes looking at her, some with admiration, and some with envy. But now, after tasting the freedom that the island and her new wardrobe afforded her, she knew that she did not miss the tight fitting corsets or the stiff cords that bound her body.  At first it had seemed wrong, flaunting social norms, but now it felt liberating in a purely practical sense. Fashion born of functionality, as it should be. Although she still wished she could find a bit of lace, or jewelry, to make her outfit appear a little less plain.

 

Given this sudden change of direction her life had taken, her dreams were beginning to change as well.  Once she had dreamed of marrying a well-to-do man and becoming the perfect wife and mother. Sansa realized now that this had been partly her dream, but also what she had been raised to want.  Lately, she had been reevaluating her own desires as well as the norms of Westerosi society. She  _ had _ met that well-to-do man, one that she could envision spending her life with ─ but what about becoming a wife and mother?  Were those forbidden to her now, or had those expectations simply changed into something different like so many other things in this isolated place?  She and Stannis had found their own shared intimacy, even though they hadn’t actually had intercourse in the traditional sense. Overcoming his initial hesitation, Stannis had seemingly become more comfortable with expressing his affection, kissing her freely and often holding her close, stroking her hair as they relaxed together on the beach watching the sunset.  He’d also become quite skilled at pleasuring her with his fingers, and although she was quite content to continue to allow him to do so, she sometimes felt frustrated by not allowing him to do more. Admittedly, she wanted to know what it would be like to lie with him ─ to feel him inside ─  _ all _ of him.  She blushed at the thought.  

 

She wondered if Stannis felt the same way.  They had become close physically, but they never spoke about their needs and desires, especially when it concerned their future happiness.  They really hadn’t had much time for conversation, or for courting lately with everything focused on the move. Neither of them had even said  _ I love you _ yet, though she knew that she did love him, and suspected he felt the same. They hadn’t said the words aloud.  Sansa thought it was time. They were moving to a new camp ─ starting a new chapter of life on the island. She would speak to him about their future plans as a couple tonight, if she didn’t lose her nerve.

 

She didn’t have long to wait, for another glance at the jungle path revealed Stannis, returning from his hard day’s work and looking tired.  His dragging posture and fatigued expression evaporated when he saw her, his lips forming a smile before greeting her with a kiss.

 

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, you know,” she softly admonished, patting his chest.  “There isn’t any deadline we have to meet.”

 

“I know.  But the rainy season is starting and it will be better to finish our new shelter before then.  We can relax once it’s complete.”

 

She could see him glancing over her shoulder toward the meal that awaited him so she didn’t press the point, realizing he must be starving.  They ate in relative silence, simply enjoying each other’s company, although Sansa’s anxiety about the topic of conversation she wanted to bring up, and also about Stannis’ reaction to a surprise she had arranged for him, contributed to her reluctance to speak.  Whether for good or bad, fate forced her hand as the wind began to pick up and clouds gathered overhead in the darkening sky. They had just finished cleaning up after their meal when rain began to pour down on them in sheets. Stannis put his arm around her as they dashed for the shelter, and Sansa realized she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer.

 

“Sansa?”  Stannis looked to her in confusion as they ducked under the leafy canopy and knelt beside each other on the grass mat.  “What has happened to the partition?”

 

Despite her former resolve, with Stannis right beside her waiting for an answer, Sansa found herself momentarily at a loss for words.  She had taken the partition down because she no longer wanted to sleep apart from Stannis, but now that he was here, she wondered if she should have discussed it with him first.

 

“The new shelter isn’t finished yet, so we will have to spend another few nights here.  I’ll repair it,” he explained patiently, obviously coming to the conclusion that the partition had come down of its own volition.  “We may have to make do until after the rain passes.” 

 

He offered a tired smile.

 

“I took it down,” Sansa blurted at last, attempting but failing to sound casual.  “I was thinking that maybe we didn’t need it.”

 

Stannis’ eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as he gazed at her intently.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Sansa nodded, feeling somewhat embarrassed by her forwardness.  To think she had enticed him with her naked body at the waterfall, and yet somehow this felt like a much more intimate step than any in their relationship thus far.  She managed to brush her hesitancy aside. Waking up in Stannis’ arms was something she wanted more than words could express.

 

“If you are not opposed?”  

 

She studied his face and was dismayed to find reluctance in his expression.  She had thought this would make him happy, but it seemed she had been wrong. Her heart, which had been pounding with anxiety now stilled and dropped into her stomach.  Could she have been mistaken about the depth of Stannis’ feelings for her? 

 

“What is it?  Please tell me,” she prodded, when he was slow to answer.

 

“I’m not convinced that sleeping so close is a good idea-” he explained at last, breaking eye contact.

 

Sansa felt as if he had ripped out her heart and tossed it aside.  She fought the tears that began to well in her eyes.

 

“Oh?”  She really didn’t know what to say.  This was not the reaction she had expected.  

Her first response was to go on the defensive.  

 

“If you find my presence disturbing to your sleep, perhaps we should have completely separate quarters at the new camp,” she stated flatly, unable to suppress the note of bitterness that crept into her voice.  She turned away.

 

That got Stannis’ attention and he gripped her arm, causing her to face him.

 

“That isn’t what I meant, of course I  _ want _ to sleep closer to you.  How could you think otherwise?”

 

Sansa studied him in confusion.  Why was Stannis always so frustratingly difficult to understand?

 

“Because you just said that it wasn’t a good idea?  That seemed clear enough to me. What did you want me to think?”

 

Stannis’ lips were pressed together tightly, forming a thin line, and she could see him struggling over how to answer.  She would give him the time he needed, but she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. She was stunned, and more than a little angry when he suddenly let go of her arm, fled the shelter, and went marching off down the beach in the pouring rain.  A cry of frustration escaped her as she hurried after him, instantly becoming soaked.

 

When she reached him, instead of stopping, she moved into step beside him, nearly breaking into a run in order to match his long strides.  He glanced at her in surprise, but didn’t stop until they reached the sea. The rain started to let up as they stood side-by-side, the waves lapping at their feet as the tide retreated for the night.

 

“What are you doing here?  You’ll catch a fever standing in the rain like this,” he scolded, raising his voice above the hiss of the rain on the jungle canopy and the roar of the waves.

 

“I would ask you the same,” Sansa answered, swiping at the strands of wet hair that had matted across her face, then crossing her arms to demonstrate that she intended to remain there as long as he did.  She stared out at the blackness of the horizon and waited.

 

“I did not intend to give the impression that I desire to sleep apart from you,” he said at last, staring at the same horizon as she.  “In truth, I feel very much the opposite, but that still doesn’t make removing the partition a good idea.”

 

“Why not?” Sansa spared a glance at him, the heaviness lifting from her heart.  Judging from his emotional response, she wasn’t mistaken about Stannis’ feelings for her.  Why then was he acting so conflicted?

 

“It isn’t that I don’t want you close to me,” he explained, frowning as he turned to face her.  “The fact is that I want you  _ too _ much.  I don’t trust myself.”

 

Sansa was stunned.  How could he not trust himself when she trusted him with her life?

 

“That doesn’t make sense.  You’ve always behaved as a gentleman.  Anything we’ve done has been consensual.  We both know that you would never harm me.”

 

“Harm you?  No, I would never harm you!” He looked alarmed at the thought.  “It pleases me that you place your trust in me, but I was thinking of a more subtle threat.”  

 

He cast his eyes downward, obviously having trouble expressing what he wished to, or rather what she was pressing him to say.  

 

“I want you more than I have any right to...my fear is that I might ─  _ we  _ might ─ become careless.  I don’t want to be the ruin of your virtue.”

Sansa stared at him in wonder as the remnants of the evening shower dripped slowly from his hair and beard.  She knew full well what he meant by  _ virtue _ .  She may have lost her innocence to him weeks ago, but her virginity was still intact.  It seemed that both of them had been thinking about the added complications that intercourse would bring to their relationship.  Still, could he really be so blind to what she felt for him?

 

“Stannis, you are the only man I want. You can hardly ruin something that is yours.”  

 

It was her turn to look away, feeling vulnerable about the enormity of what she was confessing.  It might not be  _ I love you _ , but it was no less intimate.  She thought that he might take her into his arms then, and kiss her soundly.  It was what she wanted. Instead he surprised her once more, uttering words she was quite unprepared to hear.

 

“Sansa, I cannot in good conscience hold you to a promise that is not in your best interests.  It is unlikely we will be rescued, but we do not know for certain what the future holds. If we were back in Westeros, you would have your pick of suitors.”

 

He spoke as if he was reciting words memorized from a text.  He must have been pondering this for a fair amount of time while up on the mountain.  Did he really think so little of himself, and of  _ her _ , that he would consider the idea that she had merely settled for him, not having any other choice?  After weeks of courtship, of intimacy, were they right back to the beginning of their relationship and Stannis’ lack of faith in her feelings for him?  

 

Sansa didn’t know whether to pity him or to slap him.  She wanted to do both, and so she emitted another growl of frustration and turned on her heel.   _ If a lady doesn’t have anything polite to say, then a lady should remain silent _ .  Her mother’s words filled her head, and yet she wondered if her mother would have cared about civility in this situation.  She missed her advice now more than ever. The clouds parted and the moon appeared, but Sansa didn’t notice as she marched back toward the camp, her face hot with anger.

 

“If you are so concerned about me being careless with my virtue, then I’ll sleep on the beach tonight and we shall both be the safe,” she shouted over her shoulder, leaving Stannis alone to contemplate the mistake he had made.

 

~~~

 

Stannis stood on the beach and stared at the pale figure of Sansa as she retreated from him.  Why had she become so angry at what he had said? He had merely reminded her that were they to be rescued, she would have other options for a husband.  He didn’t want her to feel obligated to abandon her virginity, her virtue, to him simply because she was trapped on this island and he was the only man around.  He already felt guilty about how intimate they had become, although he was weak enough that he hadn’t put a stop to it. Did she have any idea how she consumed his thoughts?  How much he wanted to take her ─ to make her his in every way? He couldn’t tell her that. He also hadn’t let on that it would devastate him to see her with another man, or that his feelings for her had grown into something that he didn’t have words to express.  

 

He didn’t want Sansa to feel trapped.  He wanted her to be free to choose, which is more than what Ned and Robert had done for her.  At least those were the things that he told himself. Somewhere inside was a nagging voice that told him that all of his benevolent thoughts concerning Sansa’s freedom were lies.  He wasn’t protecting Sansa, he was protecting himself. The simple truth was that he was afraid of falling in love. He was afraid of making a commitment to spend the rest of his life with Sansa.  _  It’s a little too late for that you fool. _  He shook his head to clear the haze that was stopping him from acting decisively.  The only thing to do was to attempt to repair what damage he had done and go after her.

 

He found Sansa back at the campsite, dragging her mat and pillow out of the shelter and onto the sand, making a mess of everything in the process.  

 

“Sansa, wait. There is no need for you to sleep on the beach.”

 

He watched her stiffen at his words, and she appeared to be attempting to calm herself.  Had he really made her so angry?

 

“You said that you don’t consider it safe for me to sleep beside you.  I did not wish to tire you further by asking you to re-make the partition tonight.  This is the simplest solution, but if you have another I am willing to listen.”

 

Her voice was eerily calm but Stannis knew her well enough to suspect that she was angrier with him than she was letting on.  At least she was willing to listen.

 

“Perhaps we should talk about what I said that has you so upset?” he asked, awkwardly, fearing another round of angry silence.  

 

To his surprise, Sansa pounced on the chance to release her pent up emotions like a cat on a mouse.  She rounded on him, dropping the mat on the sand and stepping closer to face him.

 

“I seems clear that you still regard me as a child, who doesn’t know her own mind,” she snapped.

 

“I never said that,” he countered, not quite prepared to argue with her, since he knew full well she made a good point.

 

“Then why not accept my choice?  I chose  _ you _ , Stannis.”

 

“You chose Joffrey once.”  

 

He knew as soon as the words left his mouth just how unfair the assessment was.   

 

“That was no free choice and you know it!  My engagement to Joffrey was a mistake.”

 

“What if I’m another mistake?”  

 

That was the heart of it he realized, admitting his own reservations at last.

 

“Why would you think that?”  

 

Sansa’s brow was wrinkled with tension, but more indicative of confused concern than anger.  She seemed genuinely curious to learn his thoughts, and it was time that he confessed the truth.  He owed it to her and to himself.

 

“Because my first marriage was a mistake.  I failed Selyse. I failed you when the Fury was lost.  I look in your eyes and see the man you want me to be, not the man I am.  I fear I will never live up to your expectations.”

 

“Perhaps my eyes are a mirror.”  She softened visibly, all traces of anger replaced with sincerity.  “The evidence of the man you are is right in front of me. I know exactly who you are, Stannis, and you are not Joffrey.  You are not a failure in any sense of the word. You are an honest, kind and gentle man. You are the man I love.”

 

Sansa took his hand and stared deeply into his eyes as she said the words that caused his heart to stop beating.  He gazed at her dumbfounded, overwhelmed by her beauty and her inner strength. Sansa’s face, softly awash in moonlight, her large, luminous eyes radiating such pure affection for him alone, moved him more than the canopy of stars spread across the vast night sky.

 

He was alarmed to see that Sansa mistook his stunned silence for rejection and in a few seconds her eyes glistened with tears and she turned away.

 

“Perhaps it was presumptuous of me to believe that you felt the same,” she said, her quivering voice tearing a hole in his chest.

 

“No,” he managed, his throat constricted with emotion.  He turned her to face him, lifting her chin so she was forced to look into his eyes.  “Never believe that I do not feel the same. I love you Sansa. I will always love you.”

 

Her eyes overflowed with tears, a few drops streaming down her cheeks and over her lips, but this time he knew that they were tears of happiness.  Leaning forward, he kissed her tenderly, savoring the slightly salty taste. Sansa’s arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him closer, passionately returning his kiss.  Sighing contentedly, Stannis wished he could prolong this moment, but as Sansa’s body pressed tightly against his, he could already feel the stirring of his desire for her and he could not afford to be distracted.  There was more he urgently wanted to say before his resolve wavered.

 

“Sansa,” he gasped, pulling away.  “You once asked me what I would do if we were back in Westeros.”

 

“I did,” Sansa smiled, looking a bit perturbed that he had broken their kiss, but also interested in what he had to say.  “And you began courting me.”

 

“Yes,” Stannis nodded, his eyes suddenly wandering nervously over her face.  “We’ve been courting for a few weeks now and if we were back in Westeros…” his voice trailed off.  Was he really about to do this? He took a deep breath. “I would be asking Ned for his permission-”  He shook his head, frustrated that he hadn’t better prepared for what he was about to ask. He decided the direct approach was probably the best.  “Sansa, will you marry me?”

 

He watched Sansa’s expression transform from amused curiosity, to utter disbelief.   He held his breath in anticipation. There was so much he’d left unsaid. Of course there was no legal means to actually marry on the island.  Neither of their families were present. How would they live as husband and wife? Why would he think that Sansa would agree to any of this? 

 

“I have no ring to offer you, and no proper right to ask-”  

 

Judging from Sansa’s reaction as her tears began to flow once again, none of those issues mattered.  Nodding vigorously, she pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him, and mouthed the word  _ YES _ once or twice before actually recovering her voice and saying it aloud.

 

Stannis’ heart soared.  He gathered Sansa into his arms and held her close.  He brushed aside the long strands of silken hair that the warm sea breeze cast across her face and slowly lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her soundly.  He closed his eyes, and for the first time, the nagging sense of guilt that had plagued him was gone. Sansa was right, she knew her own mind, and she had chosen him.  Any problems that might occupy his thoughts vanished with the sensation of Sansa’s heart beating against his chest. For the first time that he could remember, he had everything he could possibly want.  For the first time in his life, he was in love and he was loved in return.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I'm hoping to get back into the writing groove and post more regularly. Thanks for your patience!


	12. Fully Engaged

 

Sansa slowly awakened from sleep, rising to the surface of consciousness from the depths of her dreams.  She had dreamed of her wedding day. She was in the Godswood, and all her family surrounded her. Ned had walked her over to where Stannis, dressed in his finest uniform adorned with medals, was standing.  Stannis had lifted the delicate lace veil that covered her face and had taken her hands in his. He looked positively grim, grinding his teeth and frowning, but she knew that was from his anxiety at being in an unfamiliar setting surrounded by people he did not know well, for his eyes had been fixed on her, and were filled with an intense adoration that melted her heart and warmed her from the inside.  

 

As she returned to reality, Sansa realized that she was smiling from ear to ear with happiness.  The setting might have been a dream but the rest was true, Stannis loved her and they were going to be married!  The next thing she became aware of was Stannis’ arm wrapped possessively around her waist, and his beard tickling the back of her shoulder as he snuggled her from behind, still sleeping soundly.   In another few seconds she became fully alert, her eyes opening wide as she registered that not only was she sleeping beside Stannis, but they were both completely naked!  

 

Her memories of the previous evening returned in a jumble and she quickly sorted out that after Stannis’ proposal and a few minutes of passionate kissing, they had returned to the shelter to find themselves too exhausted from the day’s activities to do anything other than retire for the night.  It was nearly pitch black inside, save for a few streaks of pale moonlight, and so she hadn’t given it a second thought as they stripped off their clothing, still damp from the rain, and immediately fell asleep. Now, in the light of morning, after her initial surprise, and a brief moment of shyness, Sansa realized that this was exactly what she had wanted ─ to wake up in Stannis’ arms, warm, secure, and loved.  It felt wonderful to be so close to her new fiance, after being separated by a partition for so many nights. Perhaps this might be a good time to remind him again just how much his proposal meant to her. Besides, knowing how hard Stannis would work on the new shelter that day, he might be too tired again in the evening to do anything but sleep.

 

She shifted her position slightly, turning onto her back so that Stannis’ face was nestled in the crook between her neck and shoulder.  She moved his arm up so that it now fell across her breasts, an sharp tingle of excitement formed in her belly and catapulted straight down between her legs.

 

“Stannis, darling,” she whispered, kissing his forehead softly.  “The sun is up.”

 

He murmured something unintelligible, nuzzling his face against her skin but still not opening his eyes.  Curling her arm around his shoulders, Sansa traced a finger down his bicep, marveling at the firmness of the muscle.  The island had made him stronger and leaner than ever, his skin nearly as bronze as a Dornish statue. As she studied his face, she concluded that he was even more handsome than she’d first noticed on the Fury, especially with his jaw relaxed for once instead of taut from stress.  It seemed that life on the island agreed with them both. She thought back to that first morning together. She had been watching him sleep then too, but it had seemed indecent at the time, and Stannis had immediately put up the partition. Now, they were engaged and the partition that separated them was gone forever.  Stannis was her betrothed, and she would feel no shame in showing her affection.  

 

Turning to face him, Sansa moved  downward a few inches so that she could kiss his cheek and lips, smiling sweetly when his eyes flickered open at last.

 

“I did not wish to wake you,” Sansa whispered, the twinkle in her aquamarine eyes contradicting her words.

 

“And yet you did,” Stannis replied dryly with a half smile of his own, to let her know he was teasing too. Raising his head he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  “It’s late,” he added, glancing over her shoulder to determine the height of the sun over the horizon.

 

“Are you in such a hurry to leave me?” Sansa asked, raising her eyebrows and making her lips form the perfect pout.  “I’ve barely seen you lately.”

 

“I need to finish the new shelter.  I promise that it won’t be much longer, and then we will be able to spend more time together,” Stannis explained, his eyes distractedly following Sansa’s hand, which had moved from his chest and was now resting upon his upper thigh.  It was at that moment that Stannis seemed to realize what Sansa had discovered earlier, that they were both naked.

 

“Sansa, I─” he began, only to have Sansa cut him off with a kiss that left no uncertainty as to her immediate intentions.

 

Her hand moved purposefully to his cock, and she was delighted to find that Stannis was hard even before she began stroking him.  She had become quite skilled, under his careful instruction.  He expressed his approval by murmuring sounds of encouragement into her mouth between greedy kisses. His state of arousal left no doubt in her mind that her actions were most appreciated.  

 

Sansa sat up, for the position she was in, turned on her side facing him, was ill suited to her task.  Her hair had fallen into her face and she gathered it up, sweeping it back behind her shoulders as she knelt beside Stannis in order to service him better.  She caught him staring quite longingly at her breasts. Reaching for her, he began to caress the left one reverently, raking his thumb across the nipple until it pebbled beneath his touch, as a rather loud gasp of delight escaped her.  Her eyes had closed in pleasure as he continued to stroke the sensitive nub of flesh, but flew open when she felt the moist heat of his mouth hovering over her right nipple. He kissed her breast tenderly, then gave the nipple a tentative lick before taking it into his mouth and suckling her gently.

 

“Gods, Stannis!” Sansa gasped, a sudden surge of moisture between her legs causing her to squirm.  He cupped her bottom, pulling her closer so that she could feel the firmness of his shaft pressing against her entrance.  She could tell by the way he was squeezing her buttocks that he wanted to be inside her, and she couldn’t deny that she wanted the same.  Sansa no longer had any reservations about engaging in intercourse with Stannis. The man that she loved and was now her fiance; however, they weren’t yet wed.  She didn’t know why that mattered, but for some reason it did. Maybe Stannis felt the same, for he hadn’t yet attempted to press the point. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t try something new that she had been considering for quite some time, something that she hoped  would leave Stannis thinking about her fondly all day while he labored on the mountain.

 

Sansa touched his shoulder, causing him to reluctantly pull away from her breasts and look at her questioningly.  She offered him her best, sultry smile, while caressing his member lightly with the tips of her fingers.

 

“I’ve heard other women talk about something that men like,” she whispered, licking her lips nervously.  She regarded his thick erection, jutting from between his legs. Was she actually supposed to swallow something that big?  What if she did it wrong?  

 

Looking at Stannis’ face, she realized that by licking her lips and stroking his manhood she had completely captured his attention.  His face was flushed with desire, his eyes gazing at her in rapt disbelief as if he were reading her mind.

 

Sansa leaned down, sending her long hair cascading over his stomach and thighs.  Before she could change her mind, she gave the crimson head of his member a tentative kiss, flicking her tongue across the surface for good measure.  Stannis released a strangled gasp, and grabbed her by the shoulders, startling her by moving her firmly away. He rose up to his knees so that they were both kneeling and facing each other.

 

“Sansa, you don’t have to do that,” he growled, his voice strained, and yet his eyes were wide and dark with desire.

 

“I know I don’t have to,” Sansa answered, petting his chest to soothe him, and convince him that she wasn’t reluctant.  “But did you like it?”

 

The expression on his face, one of unabashed lust, tinged with guilt, was her answer.  She’d never seen his face so red. He gave an almost imperceptible nod, unable to meet her gaze.

 

“Then I shall continue,” she cooed.  “If you wouldn’t mind?”

 

He continued to stare at her mutely, as she coaxed him onto his back, the angle being more comfortable for her task.  

 

“Tell me what you like and what you don’t.”

 

Stannis answered with a grunt as she knelt over him, lowering her head once again.  His eyes were almost pleading, as he watched her anxiously. She quickly found that it didn’t matter if she couldn’t take the full measure of him into her mouth, focusing on the engorged tip of his manhood and using her fingers to grip the base seemed to send Stannis into such a state of extreme ecstasy that he was unable to form words, issuing instead a series of garbled sounds of approval each time her tongue made contact.  She watched his face carefully for any sign of discomfort but saw none, save for when her teeth inadvertently grazed his skin.  

 

Sansa found that her task was not unpleasant, and although it took some time to learn the best way of going about it without tiring her jaw too much, the joy of giving her partner such obvious pleasure outweighed any reservations she might have entertained at the outset.  Stannis lifted his head to watch her, leveraging himself into a position to observe by leaning back on his elbows. She made liberal use of her tongue, licking a path up the underside of his shaft and swirling it around the head, which produced a sound akin to a whimper from her partner, and caused him to reach out and grip her shoulder tightly.  He had been allowing her to lead for the most part, taking over the job of holding her hair away from her face so that he could watch her with rapt attention, which seemed to add to his enjoyment. But, as she sensed his approaching climax, Stannis’ need to direct her intensified.  

 

“More─ ” he begged, the pressure of his fingers on her shoulder increasing, though she wasn’t sure what he wanted more of.  She’d been approaching the task as she would eating a banana without the biting, so she attempted to take a little more of him into her mouth, the tip of him bumping soundly against the inside of her cheek, as her lips closed around him.  Clearly, Stannis experienced another intense spasm of pleasure, because he closed his eyes, tilted his head back and groaned. She smiled around him, before releasing him a moment in order to stroke him hard and fast, the way he’d taught her.  Stannis' eyes flew open and she knew by the intensity of his expression that his climax was imminent. She continued to stroke him until she felt the hot, wet sensation of his seed spilling into her hand, as he tensed and gasped her name loudly.

 

He collapsed onto his back, his arms giving way after leaning on his elbows for such a prolonged period, and his chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath.  Sansa patted his thigh lovingly, and watched as his vision cleared and he seemed to become aware of her presence once more. She lowered her eyes, anxious now that the fog of lust was gone and she was the subject of his scrutiny.  Now that he was satisfied would he think less of her for what she had done? Her fears were soon cast away when he held her by the shoulders and brought his face close to hers.

 

“Sansa─ ” he started, his voice cracking from emotion.  He stared into her eyes for the longest time before he continued, placing his mouth on hers and whispering against her lips.  “─ I do not deserve you.”

 

He kissed her then, cutting off any reply she might have made.  They kissed each other tenderly until Sansa pulled away for fear that they would never make it out of the shelter that morning.  Though she wanted to continue, eager to discover just how Stannis intended to show his appreciation, she knew her pleasure could wait.  She wanted more than anything for Stannis to finish construction of the mountain camp so they could move in and begin their new life together.  Making love with Stannis all morning would delay that.

 

“Darling, it’s getting late,” she reminded him gently.

 

Stannis looked at her questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Are you telling me that you want me to go?”

 

Sansa smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

 

“I don’t _want_ you to go, but I think you should.  You should begin your work before the afternoon rains.”

 

“Are you certain you’ll be all right?”  Stannis asked, glancing wistfully at her breasts.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Sansa assured, handing Stannis his breeches before reaching for her own clothing.  “I’ll accompany you as far as the waterfall. Just wait for me to gather some food for your breakfast.”

 

“Yes m’lady,”  Stannis answered.  “I am at your service.”

 

Sansa turned and stared at him, unable to determine from his serious expression whether or not he was teasing.  With Stannis it was always difficult to tell, but after a few moments his lips began to twitch and his smile gave him away.   He didn’t smile often and she was always proud knowing that she had caused one to soften his handsome but serious face.

 

“Then you had better get dressed.  The day promises to be a busy one,” she countered, unable to suppress a laugh as she left him staring approvingly at her legs.

 

~~~

 

Stannis sat in the shade, his back against a tall palm, distractedly chewing a bite of the dried coconut and mango that Sansa had packed for his lunch.  He wasn’t one to take frequent breaks. By his estimation, the new campsite was two-thirds of the way done, but he wanted to be finished before the rainy season set in for good.  That meant he had to pick up the pace of his labor and not waste time sitting beneath a palm tree thinking about his life. Still, after he’d cut the wrong length of bamboo for the flooring for the second time that morning because his thoughts kept wandering, he knew he needed to sort something out before continuing.  

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Sansa, and what she had done for him that morning.   Only a few months ago, he would have associated such an act with a coarse woman, someone lowborn.  He had never considered the simple fact that he might seek such pleasure in the arms of a woman to whom he was betrothed, a woman who would offer herself to him gladly, without reservation. He had never considered pleasure for its own sake an appropriate pursuit. In fact, thanks to witnessing Robert’s excesses, Stannis realized that he’d come to associate the pursuit of sexual pleasure with brothels and a lack of respect for women in general.  

 

Sansa had changed all that. Sansa had taught him that giving and receiving sexual pleasure shouldn’t make him feel guilty or weak, but was in fact a natural expression of desire born from affection. Not only had she changed his outlook on intimacy,  in a relatively short period of time, Sansa had taken a tragic situation and turned it into the happiest time in his life, for he realized that he could call himself truly happy. Though he had lost everything he had known, his wealth, his family, his profession, and the men who served him, he had gained so much more.  He was in love with a beautiful, intelligent, and caring woman, and he was loved in return. They may not be free to marry in Westeros, but here on the island, if fate allowed, they had their whole lives ahead of them.  

 

Stannis knew then what had been bothering him all morning; the wedding ceremony.  Sansa, like most women he assumed, had looked forward to her wedding day since she was a girl.  She deserved the most lavish, _within reason of course_ , wedding day he could offer her, with all of her family and friends present.  Normally, he did not care for the extravagant affairs of society, but Sansa deserved to have her special day, and in some deep recess of his heart he knew it would satisfy him to know that she was officially _his_ bride, never to be associated with Joffrey again.  

 

The problem was, how would they marry here?  He had assumed they would remain engaged and forgo and actual wedding ceremony, but in the event that they were never rescued, that would resign them to an infinite state of purgatory, always betrothed and never officially wed.  After thinking it over, he realized that he wanted the closure of a ceremony, and perhaps Sansa expected one as well. How could he make such a thing happen? What could he offer her in the form of an actual wedding here in this isolated spot?  There was no Septon to make the official pronouncement. Ned was not here to give Sansa away, nor were there any bridesmaids or groomsmen. Still, he hadn’t expected courtship to go as well as it had. They had improvised and been pleasantly surprised.  He knew that he could not have been more pleased courting Sansa in King’s Landing than he had been with their courtship here on the island. He and Sansa would make do, as they had from the beginning.  

 

Stannis vowed to discuss it with Sansa at the next opportunity, and together they would make a decision.  His mind more at ease, Stannis rose and returned to the task of completing the flooring for the new shelter.  As soon as he was finished, they could be married and begin their lives together as husband and wife. Energized by this goal, he began to work even faster.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus (again). I am writing, just slowly, and I thought I should give an update. I have the next 4 chapters done, but real life is keeping me busy these days. I'll update when I can, but be assured I'm still plugging away. Thanks to all for sticking with me and commenting/liking. I'm glad you are enjoying the adventure!


	13. Husband and Wife

 

Sansa stared in awe at the mountain camp, her hand quickly moving to cover her mouth which had opened wide from surprise at what Stannis had accomplished.  She had been involved in some of the construction during the initial stages, but Stannis had insisted that she stay away for the final weeks, obviously in order to surprise her, which he had managed to do in fine fashion.  There was a wooden picket fence around the front perimeter, forming a yard of sorts, and another two fenced areas nearby; one was for a garden, the other a pen, presumably to corral animals ─ fowl perhaps. The shelter itself was a small cabin, small in accordance to Westerosi standards, but huge compared to the lean-to they had called home on the beach.  The structure was much more substantial, and fully enclosed save for an open doorway at the front. Sansa immediately envisioned a curtain that could be pulled back in good weather and lowered to protect against the rain, if she could find the cloth. A rain barrel stood to one side, fashioned from a wine cask they had found washed up on the beach. Stannis had even constructed a table and two chairs, where they could sit and dine or just relax and watch the sunset.  Moreover, a small privy shack was visible in back. Taking it all in, Sansa realized it was more than she had ever dreamed they would have in this desolate place.

 

“Stannis it’s beautiful!” She gasped, watching his expression transform from anxious anticipation to pride.

 

Sansa threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  

 

“I love our new home,” she proclaimed, before kissing him tenderly.  “And I love you for working so hard to build it.”

 

“We can expand on it later if necessary,” he explained, obviously moved by her praise.  “But, it will do for now to protect us from the coming storms.”

 

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, and meant it.

 

She wasn’t surprised when Stannis barely let her look inside the the shelter, for the sun was beginning to set and Sansa knew that meant it was time for the ceremony.   She and Stannis had discussed it some weeks ago, and agreed that despite the fact that there was no one here to witness it, they would have a wedding ceremony of their own.  They also agreed it would take place at sunset on the day the camp was ready. They would move into their new home as husband and wife. It wasn’t as if a wedding was necessary for them to live as a couple, but they both felt that symbolizing their union ─ the enduring commitment they were making to each other, deserved the proper acknowledgment.

 

Other than that, there had been little discussion about the the details.  Stannis wasn’t religious, and Sansa had grown up in a household that believed in both the old gods and the Seven, but she wasn’t all that religious either.  There was no Septon, but that did not matter to Sansa. She and Stannis would recite their own vows, and pronounce each other husband and wife. There was however, the problem of the cloaks.  There was precious little cloth on the island, and if that weren’t enough of a problem, it would be extremely difficult to figure out how to dye it, or embroider it to represent their respective House colors and sigils.  

 

That said, Sansa was more than a little proud of her own creation.  She did not yet know what Stannis had managed to design for her wedding cloak, but for her maiden cloak, she had found a piece of white sail cloth and had dyed it with a preparation made from crushed and boiled seed pods.  She colored half the material grey, representing House Stark. For the sigil, she used squid ink and a quill made from a bird’s feather to sketch a crude wolf’s head. She’d sequestered it in a bundle of her things that she’d carried up the mountain with her that evening.  She was quite excited for Stannis to see it.

 

Stannis left Sansa behind the shelter, near the privy, in order to get ready.  Fortunately, the rains had passed earlier in the day and the weather was now dry and clear, perfect for this special occasion.  Sansa’s stomach filled with butterflies as she fixed her hair and donned her cloak in preparation. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous, but she couldn’t help it.  Though she could never have imagined a wedding day such as this one, Stannis Baratheon far surpassed any man she could have wished for as a husband. He was the man of her dreams, and in a few minutes time she would become his wife.  As a final touch, she placed a makeshift veil over her head, letting it cover her face. She’d fashioned it from some fisherman’s netting that had washed ashore. She hoped Stannis wouldn’t mind that she’d found a more frivolous use for one of his prized possessions.  She didn’t think so, since she’d only repurposed a small section of the larger net.

 

When she was ready, Sansa took a deep breath and thought of Catelyn.  She closed her eyes.  _ He’s the right one for me Mother.  _ She whispered the words into the wind, as if Catelyn could hear.  Satisfied that wherever her mother was, she would know in her heart that Sansa was happy, she started toward the designated spot to meet her betrothed.  As she approached, she saw Stannis standing near the edge of the cliff, the sun setting on the horizon, where sea met sky behind him. Staring at the colorful pinks and golds painting the infinite expanse of the sea, Sansa was convinced that this place was truly as beautiful as a Godswood.  As she drew nearer to her intended, she felt her cheeks bloom with heat, made self conscious from the way Stannis was staring at her in wide-eyed wonder, as if she were an apparition, and not a mere woman made of flesh and bone. But, his adoration also made her feel beautiful, like a royal princess arriving at a fancy dress ball in King’s Landing.  

 

She was soon distracted by how handsome Stannis was, standing straight and tall, his hair and beard neatly groomed.  The striking cloak he was wearing was made entirely of feathers from some exotic bird, golden yellow and black ─ Baratheon colors, with stag “antlers” fashioned from sticks fastened on to the back.  Sansa halted in front of him. Time stopped as she and her soon to be husband marveled at each other, both a bit nervous but yet eager to be joined together at long last. After a few moments silence, the gentle breeze plucking at their hair and clothing, Stannis lifted her veil and folded it back, exposing her face.

 

“I wish you could see how beautiful you are right now,” he whispered.  

 

They gazed into each other’s eyes another minute before Stannis spoke in a more officious voice.

 

“Shall we begin?”

 

Sansa nodded, surprised when her eyes welled with tears before another word was said.  There were so many emotions filling her heart that it felt like it would burst, being too small to hold them all.  Admittedly, she had felt lonely for a moment, standing so high up on the mountain and staring out at the vast expanse of ocean surrounding them.  She and Stannis were isolated, all alone here, on their wedding day, without family or friends to witness their union, or to share in their celebration.  Discussing it, and thinking about it, had not truly prepared her for experiencing it. The moment of sadness passed quickly however, as Stannis took her hands in his, and she felt the warmth of his skin as he squeezed gently to reassure her of his commitment.  He held her gaze as he vowed to love and cherish her, to protect her and honor her, forsaking all others, for the rest of their lives. Sansa no longer felt alone at all, for she had everything she wanted right here.  

 

Sansa promised to do the same for Stannis, as he had for her, and then he removed her cloak and replaced it with his own, thus symbolizing the vows he had just made to honor and protect her.

 

“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you, Sansa Stark, to be my Lady wife.” 

 

Stannis lowered his head and kissed her tenderly.

 

“I take you, Stannis Baratheon, as my Lord husband,” Sansa echoed, bestowing him with a kiss of her own, and with that they were joined, their bond so strong that it could never be broken.  

 

They kissed on that high peak as the sun set on the horizon bathing them in the warm, golden light, and Sansa knew she was home.

 

~ ~ ~ 

 

Stannis made sure that all the wedding traditions that could be followed, were followed.  Sansa suspected that it wasn’t because he was at all religious, but rather because he wanted to make certain she understood that this was a  _ real _ wedding even though it was just the two of them in their own private ceremony.  For the final tradition, he insisted on carrying Sansa over the threshold of their new shelter, and she relished the sensation of being in his arms, gathered against his chest, as she hugged him close.

 

“Perhaps you’d better put me down,” she chuckled, as the bamboo flooring creaked beneath their weight.  “I wouldn’t want to cause you to sustain an injury on our wedding night.”

 

“If I’m in adequate health to build this camp, I believe that I’m able enough to carry my wife across the threshold,” Stannis snorted, acting offended.

 

“Hush, I didn’t mean to underestimate your masculine capabilities,” she teased as he set her gently on her feet.  Encircling his neck with her arms, she pulled him toward her and kissed him soundly, an open-mouthed kiss much different from those they had shared during the ceremony.  They kissed like that until both their faces grew hot with desire.  

 

Keeping her eyes fixed upon his, Sansa moved toward the bed, the butterflies in her belly returning as she realized the time for the “bedding” had arrived.  She was still amazed that Stannis was able to construct a frame that stood a good two feet off the ground without nails. The mattress was the same type of construction as the cushion they used on the beach, dried grasses filling a bag of sailcloth.  Not as comfortable as goose down but it would do for now.

 

“Come husband,” she instructed, her face beaming with joy at the sound of the word as she patted the area beside her.  “Join me.”

 

As she studied his face she realized that Stannis appeared more nervous than she.  Prior to the ceremony, they had not discussed how they would consummate their marriage on their wedding night.  

 

“The day has been quite long,” he began, averting his eyes and staring at his feet before meeting her gaze again.  “If you are too tired, I could make a pallet and sleep outside.”

 

Sansa no longer held any reservations about being intimate with Stannis, though she harbored the usual anxiety regarding the unknown, she trusted Stannis fully.  So then why was he acting so reticent? She supposed he was giving her a choice and that made her love him even more, and want him even more at that.

 

“I’m not too tired,” she assured him in what she hoped was a sultry voice.  “I intend to sleep beside my husband every night, beginning with this one. Now, if it pleases you, sit beside me.”

 

Stannis quickly crossed the space that separated them.  

 

“It pleases me,” he whispered, his voice husky as he sat beside her, immediately taking her into his arms for another passionate kiss.

 

Lost in the moment, Sansa forgot about everything except for the taste and texture of Stannis’ mouth joined with hers, the pleasant tickle of his beard, the sudden spark that flammed her desire each time their tongues connected.  She had kissed Stannis many times before, but this time seemed different, now that he was _ her _ husband, the feeling that she wanted him ─ all of him, was nearly overwhelming.  Her hands explored his back, tugging his shirt from his breeches as she sucked his lower lip greedily.  His hands smoothed the contours of her body, skimming down her sides and squeezing her hips until she abruptly found herself wishing to be out of her dress so that she could feel the warmth of Stannis’ skin pressed against hers.  Not inclined to remove her lips from Stannis’, she continued kissing him as she reached behind her head to dislodge the cord fastening her hair, only to have Stannis’ fingers instantly assisting her efforts. Her hair came down and Stannis ran his fingers gently through it, brushing it behind her shoulder.  She kissed him briefly once more before standing. She quickly grasped her skirt with both hands, and pulled her dress off over her head. Tossing her dress aside, she shook out her hair, letting it flow down her back. Sansa posed naked before his hungry gaze, savoring a moment of exhibitionism as he stared at her body, before moving closer to stand between his legs as he reverently stroked her breast.

 

“So beautiful,” Stannis murmured, as if he were in a waking dream.  He pulled her closer, kissing her neck first, then each of her breasts and down her torso.  Sansa stroked his hair, closing her eyes in blissful surrender. The sensation of his lips and tongue touching her intimately, combined with the delicious scratch of his beard tickling her skin, sent a wave of heat washing through her, evidenced by the increasing moisture between her legs.

 

“Stannis,” she gasped, unable to find the words to express the depth of her desire for him. 

 

Stannis put his hands on her waist and moved her back to the bed, before tugging off his own shirt and breeches.  This time her eyes feasted on his naked flesh, before he covered her body with his own. She felt the hardness of his manhood pressing against her mound, and knew that he wanted to be inside her as much as she wanted to take him.  She sighed contentedly, on the brink of consummating their marriage properly, with no regrets, when Stannis paused unexpectedly and sat up. She watched his face as he studied her, his eyes flitting over her face searching for signs of reluctance.  She knew he found none, and still he seemed hesitant.

 

“What is it?” she asked, her body frustrated by the sudden absence of his.

 

“I was wondering if─” he shook his head, as if angry with himself, pursing his lips and frowning.

 

“Tell me,” she insisted gently, taking his hand and caressing his fingers.  “We are married now, you musn’t be afraid to ask me anything.”

 

He gazed into her eyes, blinking a few times and tensing his jaw before blurting it out.

 

“Have you heard ─ not that you  _ should _ have, or would have had reason to, but you may have done…?”

 

“Of what?” 

 

Sansa was now truly curious.  What did Stannis wish her to do that she had not already done?  Didn’t he realize by now that he need no longer be embarrassed by carnal desires?

 

“The Lord’s Kiss?”  Stannis’ voice nearly gave out, the words coming in a cracked whisper.  “I’ve heard, that some women enjoy it, but most importantly that it can ease a new bride’s discomfort.”  

 

He quickly averted his eyes, making an intense study of the bed frame.

 

Sansa’s heart stopped.  She had fantasized about Stannis performing such an act but never dared ask, for though she was bold in pleasuring her partner, it seemed too forward for a lady to ask a gentleman to do that for her.  Of course she wanted it, and the fact that Stannis would think of her comfort as well as her pleasure made her love him even more!

 

“Yes,” she said quickly, nodding vigorously, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.  “I’d like to try it ─ that is if you want to─ ooohhh─”

 

Before Sansa could finish the sentence, Stannis was on his knees, swinging her legs to the side of the bed in order to position himself between her thighs.  Sansa blushed in spite of herself, slightly apprehensive but not nearly so as Stannis appeared. She almost begged him to reconsider, until he leaned forward, lowered his head and placed his lips tentatively against her womanly flower, the tip of his tongue just barely breeching the sanctity of her entrance.  The heat of his breath and skin, and the tickle of hair on his upper lip caused her to gasp from the unexpected sensation, but it was not unpleasant, not in the least. In fact, it could only be described as absolute bliss!

 

Stannis’ eyes disclosed his alarm from her fervent reaction.

 

“Do you wish me to stop?”

 

“N-n-nooo!” Sansa’s voice squeaked in her haste to reassure him.  “Please continue!”

 

This caused his lips to curl into a smile, for the expression on her face must have been a sight to behold.  His gesture tickled her skin once again, causing another surge of pleasure. What would it feel like when Stannis were to fully engage, if a mere touch caused so much sensation?  She wondered why this was so different, when Stannis had used his fingers to pleasure her numerous times. Was this what it felt like for Stannis when she took him into her mouth?  

 

Sansa didn’t have time to contemplate it further because Stannis’ tongue made contact with her again and her insides turned to pudding, her toes curled, and her fingers reflexively dug into his shoulders in an attempt to ground herself.  The wet heat of his tongue against her most vulnerable area was nearly too much stimulation for Sansa to process, and her eyes instantly screwed shut, blocking out anything that would distract her from this most exquisite pleasure.  

 

Despite his initial hesitancy, Stannis seemed to take to this new activity as if it came naturally, quickly learning to use his fingers in harmony with his tongue to stroke the most sensitive parts bordering her opening, as well as dipping inside, which had her craving even deeper penetration.  A dull ache began to form in a place deep between her legs, and persisted until it was a maddening hum of desire.

 

“Stannisss,” she moaned, squirming beneath his touch, not really knowing what she wanted, only that she wanted more of him.

 

Stannis must have been pushed to the edge as well, for he stopped what he was doing and moved her back to the center of the bed.  The look on his face was one of desperate determination as he lowered himself on top of her.

 

“Are you─ ready?” he growled, his voice strained with desire, his darkened eyes glowing hot with passion.

 

“Yes.” Sansa nodded, needing him inside her more than she could put into words.  She’d never felt this wet before, and the ache had intensified to such a level that she couldn’t imagine it could be more uncomfortable having him take her, than having him stop.

 

He entered her slowly, seemingly trying to be as careful of her as possible.  She felt the head of his now rigid manhood, nestled against her entrance, an intruder stretching her open.  This was immediately followed by a great pressure, a feeling of fullness unlike anything she’d experienced with his fingers or tongue, the wet, hot burn of their bodies joining at last.  Her body adjusted, as he slowly worked his way inside. It wasn’t entirely pleasurable, but not that painful either, when at last something inside her gave way and Stannis’ body reached the origin of the ache, which instantly became the only thing that mattered.  She made a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh, causing Stannis to freeze.

 

“Okay?” he gasped, his voice nearly unintelligible with tension.

 

“Yes,” she gasped in return.  She knew the effort it would cost him to stop now, but she also knew that he would stop in an instant if she were to ask.  She had no intention of asking.

 

He nodded his understanding, and lowered his head, leaning his weight onto his arms, his shoulders flexed above her.  She bent her knees slightly more than they already were, opening her legs wider to accommodate him. Finding the position more comfortable, she squeezed him a little with her thighs in encouragement.  Slowly, he began to move, stiffly at first, starting and stopping while making slight adjustments to his position, and then more fluidly, hips thrusting as the intersection of their bodies became increasingly hotter and wetter.  

 

Sansa was just getting used to the intimacy of Stannis being deep inside, when the tempo of his thrusts accelerated and his movements became less controlled.  The searing burn inside her, created by the friction of their joining, was tempered by the moisture that allowed Stannis to glide into her passage like a ramrod into a well-oiled musket.  The very air around them had grown heavy with sweat, the silence broken only by Stannis’ gutterul grunts, released with each forward push, and her own involuntary gasps of surprise stirred by each new sensation.  Sansa gathered from the tone of the sounds he was making, that he was nearing his climax. The ache between her legs became a frustratingly irritating itch, that Stannis’ body was beginning to scratch, but not nearly enough to capture her orgasm which flitted about on the edge of her perception, always close but just out of reach.  

 

Sansa’s hands moved down his back, slick with sweat, and came to rest up his rapidly flexing hips, fingers digging into his flesh in a desperate attempt to force her climax.  Her blatant desire for him caused Stannis to reach his peak, cursing under his breath he tensed, thrusting into her a final time before she felt the sudden surge of moisture trickling down her inner thighs as he came inside her.  He stilled for a moment, breathing heavily, his expression changing from screw-eyed tension in the grip of sex, to the glassy-eyed haze of release. She stroked his arm, causing him to meet her gaze, and she smiled softly, eager to reassure him that everything was perfect.  His eyes asked the unspoken question, and she answered him with a kiss, tender, but with enough open-mouthed desire to assure him that she had enjoyed having sex with him.

 

Stannis collapsed beside her, his mouth close to her ear as he whispered, “You are so beautiful...my wife.”

 

She pressed against him, burying her face against his neck as he enfolded her in his strong arms.

 

“I am yours for all time,” she murmured against his skin.  Her body thrummed with pleasure, the ache between her legs subdued to a dull vibration, not quite satisfied but stored away in anticipation of the lovemaking to come, for there was nothing keeping them apart any longer.  Sansa sighed contentedly as she drifted into a deep sleep, secure in the arms of her lover ─ her husband.

 


	14. Wedded Bliss

 

When Stannis opened his eyes, the room was cast in a muted light and he could hear the soft hiss of rain rustling on the thatched roof.  They had moved camps just in time it seemed; the rainy season had begun. Raising his head, he studied the ceiling, the floor, and each corner of the shelter and saw no leaks.  Satisfied that his construction was sound, he turned his full attention to the figure lying beside him, his bride. Sansa lay on her side facing him, her arm draped across his stomach.  She was naked, save for a thin sailcloth blanket which had been thrown off during sleep and was bunched over their calves. His eyes lingered on her facial features, gorgeous and relaxed in repose, her long hair the color of burnished copper cascading over her breasts, the curve of her hip as graceful as the neck of a minstrel’s harp.  What had he ever done that fortune had favored him so?  

 

Stannis had been anxious before the ceremony, wondering if Sansa would be satisfied with the minimal affair.  He was also worried about the wedding night, knowing that it was usually painful for the new bride, despite the best efforts of the groom.  It hadn’t helped that memories of Selyse’s bitter complaints about her wedding night had returned to mock him. It seemed he could do nothing to please his first wife.  But, last night his fears had been unfounded, rendered moot by the beautiful creature that was Sansa Stark, now Baratheon. Sansa seemed to relish every part of the ceremony, he could see it in her eyes and her smile. Her happiness was genuine.  As for their wedding night, it had been nothing like his first. Sansa had welcomed him to their bed, and into her arms.  

 

For once, he was glad he had listened to advice from Robert!  Sansa seemed to enjoy the Lord’s Kiss, and it was quite surprising to discover how stimulating it was for him as well.  Pleasuring Sansa was its own reward. From the way she touched him, and the way she kissed him for the rest of the night, there could be no mistaking that she was merely doing her duty.  She had wanted him as much as he had wanted her. If he had but one regret, it was that he should have been more careful. He had finished inside her. They had not yet discussed the difficulties of having a child on the island, or even if Sansa wanted children at all.  He should have withdrawn, but he hadn’t been thinking about it. To be honest he hadn’t been _ thinking _ at all.  He had lost that ability as soon as he had sheathed himself inside Sansa and experienced pleasure more exquisite than any fantasy he could summon.  He felt a familiar rush of heat to his groin at the still vivid memory, and wondered if this morning she might─  

 

“Good morning,husband,” As if he’d spoke his thoughts aloud, Sansa opened her eyes.  She yawned and stretched her long limbs like a cat. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Quite well, and you?”

 

“Splendidly so,” she replied, touching a finger to his lips.  “Thank you for everything.”

 

Before Stannis could answer, Sansa’s gaze moved over his shoulder to the open window.

 

“It’s raining,” she stated, frowning.  “I was hoping to plant flowers to brighten the yard today.”

 

Stannis shook his head.

 

“The rainy season is here.  It will be two or three full moons before we can do much planting.”

 

Sansa looked disappointed.  She sat up, pulling the blanket over them, to Stannis’ dismay.  

 

“There isn’t much we can do until the rain lets up,” Stannis commented, wondering how to ask Sansa what he wanted.  “Except stay in bed.”

 

_ Try not to sound so needy, you fool.   _ Why was it so difficult to express himself?  He had thought that marriage might make it easier, but alas it seemed it had not.  Thankfully, his perceptive wife seemed to understand his meaning.

 

“What could we possibly find to do in bed for an entire morning?”  She teasingly trailed her foot along his calf beneath the blanket. “You aren’t suggesting that we forgo our morning chores just to lie around, are you?”

 

She let the blanket covering her breasts fall to her waist and Stannis felt something constrict within his belly, the tempo of his heartbeat suddenly increasing.

 

“I am suggesting nothing of the sort,” he replied, pulling the covering from her hands and discarding it on the floor. His eyes roamed over her body, lingering on her shapely breasts before returning to her face. Even after all this time her beauty took his breath each time he gazed at her.  Leaning close, he brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her softly, yet hungrily.

 

“I can think of several meaningful ways in which to pass the time,” he added, whispering the words against her ear before placing another kiss just beneath her earlobe and working his way down her neck.

 

“Mmmmm...can you now?  Oh─” Her voice broke off with a gasp that Stannis gathered was one of pleasure when his mouth found her breast, his tongue circling her dark aureola before raking purposefully over her rapidly swelling nipple.

 

He took his time, distracting himself from the growing pressure between his legs as he thoroughly suckled each nipple in turn, marveling at how soft they could become under his tongue only to stiffen when exposed to air.  Judging from Sansa’s reaction, moaning his name softly, and gasping when he inadvertently grazed one with his teeth, she was as engaged as he. He had moved a leg between hers, covering her body with his, and her hands were massaging his back with increasing vigor, until they moved lower and cupped his buttocks.  It was Stannis’ turn to let out an embarrassingly needy moan when Sansa’s fingers dug into his flesh, forcing him closer, his rapidly swelling member pressing eagerly into her thigh.

His fingers found their way to her entrance, tracing the sensitive folds of flesh the way he had memorized on previous occasions, and found her surprisingly wet to the touch. Giving himself a few firm strokes to achieve peak readiness, he positioned himself at her entrance, surrendering to the urgent demands of his desire.  Sansa raked her nails down the side of his thigh, signalling her willingness to proceed, and yet when he began the gloriously pleasurable process of thrusting inside her, Sansa’s gasp of discomfort caused him to freeze, his primitive brain somehow managing to register that something was amiss.

 

“What is it?” he croaked, his voice strained.  “Am I hurting you?” He noticed her biting her lip, but couldn’t tell if it was the good kind of pain or the bad kind, because he’d learned from experience that sometimes the difference was subtle.

 

“No, you aren’t hurting me,” Sansa replied, her expression relaxing.  She looked slightly embarrassed now that he had focused his full attention on her well being and not her anatomy.  “I’m just a bit sore from last night.”

 

“Sansa, we don’t have to do this right now.”  Stannis shifted his body off his partner and rolled to his side, facing her.  Though he was uncomfortably aroused, the thought of pursuing his pleasure at the expense of Sansa’s comfort appalled him.  He took a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to slow and the throbbing in his groin to go away.

 

“Captain.”  Sansa’s sharp tone and raised eyebrow caught his attention.  She pressed a hand firmly against his chest and guided him onto his back, straddling him in one smooth motion.  “Are you refusing to do your husbandly duty?”

 

Stannis was at a loss.  He’d thought he was doing the noble thing, but apparently he had misunderstood.  His wife obviously had other ideas.

 

“Er...no, of course not,” he replied, feeling a bit foolish.

 

“I said I was sore, not that I wanted you to stop,” Sansa added, dissuading him of any further notions of abstinence. 

 

With that, she leaned down and kissed him greedily, her mound firmly pressed against his still throbbing erection.

 

_ Ah yes, the good kind of pain   _ It was all becoming clearer now _. _   Memories came flooding back of the time that Sansa had similarly mounted him on the beach, during the early stages of their sexual explorations, and how much he had enjoyed the unfamiliar position, though they did not have actual intercourse at that time.  He wondered if she was remembering that encounter fondly as well. She did seem to be enjoying rubbing herself along the length of him, her moisture lubricating his flesh so that he glided between her thighs with just the right amount of friction.  

 

Stannis’ hands, which had been resting on her hips, slipped northward to cup her full breasts which filled them nicely.  He watched with satisfaction as Sansa closed her eyes and moaned as he caressed her soft globes and thumbed her nipples. He noticed her biting her lower lip again, but this time he wasn’t concerned, for the sounds she was making were from obvious pleasure as she ground herself more forcefully against him.  

 

She rode him for some time, and he enjoyed her movements as she used his staff to pleasure herself, undulating her hips and altering speed and direction, clearly enjoying the heated friction of his body against her swollen labia. She seemed to take extra delight when the stiffened nub at the peak of her flower raked against his flesh, producing a sound of a distinctly higher pitch from her lovely throat.  Her enjoyment had him enthralled, memorizing which actions inflamed her desire most, so he could be sure to duplicate them during future encounters. Soon though, he craved more, his lust intensifying to a primal level, his body insisting that he penetrate her tight passage without further delay.

 

“Sansa,” he grunted her name in a guttural gasp.  He lowered his hands to her hips, attempting to still her movements so he could enter her.  “Please─”

 

Sansa didn’t hesitate, reaching between her legs to grip him firmly, she lifted her hips as his hands helped to steady her, and lowered herself slowly onto his rigid sword.  His head swam as even more blood rushed to his groin. He fought the urge to use physical force to reverse their positions and fuck her hard and fast, as his animal instinct demanded.  The only thing that kept him from losing control of his faculties was the sight of Sansa above him, her eyes gleaming with lust, her brow and chest covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, full lips parted as she silently chanted his name.  

 

Experimenting with her new dominant position, Sansa leaned forward, pressing her hands against his shoulders and balancing on her arms as she found her rhythm, riding him tentatively at first and then faster and with more purpose.  He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of rapturous sensation. Experiencing the illicit lust of a voyeur, Stannis surrendered control of their coupling to his partner, savoring the decadent view of her poised above him, fiery hair sweeping his chest, breasts bouncing freely as she fucked herself with his cock.  Firmly seated, Sansa bobbed up and down in short, rapid movements, like riding a stallion at full gallop approaching the finish. She had him hovering on the verge of climax, and while he wanted this feeling to last forever, he was also frustrated by the intense pressure of his impending orgasm, stretching him to the very limits of his self-control. 

 

Just when he thought he couldn’t bear it anymore, Sansa reaching her peak sent him over the edge.  She thrust against him hard before freezing in position, gasping his name one last time before releasing a prolonged moan of  _ Oooooooooh _ .  He could feel her muscles contracting around him, squeezing him tightly in rhythmic convulsions timed to her rapidly heaving chest.  More than he could endure, Stannis felt his sac tighten, his hips snapping against her hard, and his hands gripping the flesh of her buttocks, holding her firmly in place as his seed rushed forth.  His head swam, his vision blurring, before he felt the spams subside at last, and he collapsed onto his back. He relaxed as Sansa curled on top of him, and he took her into his arms, stroking her hair as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized after some time had passed and he could think clearly again.  He immediately realized that his plan for being careful had been forgotten. “I should not have─”

 

Sansa cut him off, once again having the uncanny ability to read his thoughts.

 

“There is no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

 

She kissed his shoulder.

 

“But, we haven’t discussed starting a family,” he argued, still feeling that he had failed her in some way.  Maybe he was more frightened of the dangers of childbirth than she. He could not imagine losing Sansa at this point.

 

“You are my husband and I love you.  What will happen, will happen. I refuse to ruin our happiness by worrying about the future.  Right now I have everything I need with you here beside me.”

 

He felt the hot wetness of a tear landing on his skin and realized that she was crying.  Horrified that he had upset Sansa, he squeezed her even more tightly against his body. 

 

“My dearest love,” he whispered against her hair.

 

He held her like that for some time, not knowing what more to say.  Sansa appeared to relax in his arms, and there were no more tears. Listening to the rain outside, Stannis spoke once more, changing the subject to a lighter topic.

 

“As soon as the rain lets up, I need to build a roof for the pens.  I was hoping to breed the blue fowl, the ones similar to Westerosi quail.  It will be nice to have a ready source of eggs and meat.”

 

Sansa raised her head and smiled, and he was happy to observe that she seemed to be in good spirits.  

 

“You’ve done so much to make this a home.  I know we will be very happy here.”

 

Though he was an extremely realistic and practical man, Stannis allowed himself to believe it too.  He thought that if he were ever to find true happiness, it would be here, with Sansa. Still, it was hard not to dwell upon the myriad of things that could go wrong.  Danger came in many forms. Could he really protect his wife as he had pledged on their wedding day? Sansa meant everything to him, he didn’t think he could bear it if something happened to her.  She snuggled against him once more and he put an arm around her shoulders, distracting him from his troubling thoughts.

 

“I know you don’t know exactly where we are, but does this island have a name?  I mean, is there a chance that it does?” Sansa asked unexpectedly.

 

“I should think not.  From the stars I know the region where we must reside, and none of the island chains in the area have been mapped.  Although, it is possible that some, yet to be discovered, native peoples in the region have named them. Why do you ask?”

 

“This is our home now,” Sansa continued.  “We should give it a name.”

 

Stannis was puzzled.  He almost expressed his thoughts as to why it would matter if this island were named, but he stopped himself.  This was one of those things that was important to Sansa, his wife, and so it should become important to him.

 

“What would you have it be called?” He asked.

 

Sansa looked thoughtful for a time, carefully contemplating her answer.

 

 

“I think we should call it Hope, because that is what the island has brought us.  We thought we might perish but now we have hope. What do you think?” she asked, studying his face intently.

 

“I think that is the perfect name,” he answered truthfully.  “Hope Island, it is.”


	15. A Change of Season

 

The rainy season passed more quickly on Hope Island than Sansa had expected.  Perhaps it was because she and Stannis were enjoying their newly married life to the fullest extent, choosing to spend as much time as possible making love in their bed rather than braving the elements.  Stannis seemed surprisingly guilt free regarding their intimate activities now that they were officially married, or maybe it wasn’t so surprising given the variety of pleasures they had attempted and found they both enjoyed.   _ Practice makes perfect _ she thought with a smile.  Still, she was practically euphoric when the daily downpours came to an end, allowing her to work in the garden, plant flowers to brighten the shelter, and spend time at the beach.  She gladly traded the muddy paths, mosquito filled air, and endless patter of rain, for warmer temperatures and muggy, yet clear, star-filled nights.

 

With the passing of the season had come another development.  Unexpected and yet not unwanted, Sansa thought, as she rushed to the privy for the third morning in a row, before Stannis woke, in order to empty her stomach.  From Catelyn’s instruction as a midwife, and just from being around other women, Sansa knew the signs well. This stomach irritation, combined with the fact that she had missed her moon’s blood during the last cycle, meant only one thing ─ she was with child.  Well, it could be something else, she reasoned. Her moon’s blood had hardly been regular, given the hardships of living on the island, and stomach upset was not uncommon either. Yet, somehow, she knew in her bones she was pregnant. The question was, when should she tell Stannis?  

 

They had finally discussed the prospect of having children weeks ago, and had decided to be careful, but they hadn’t been too careful, not really.  It wasn’t that they didn’t wish to have children, only that there were unique problems to be considered, and dangers above the normal ones inherent to childbirth.  They hadn’t decided  _ not _ to have children, but they hadn’t actively decided to have them either.  They had put off making any decision at all, and left it to nature, or fate, or the gods, or whatever decided such things.  She wondered how Stannis would react. Sansa wasn’t even sure how she would react herself, until it had happened. She was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, and the thought of having a child with Stannis filled her with a type of joy she had never before experienced.  Their love had born fruit, and she could envision nothing bad coming from it, only good.

 

“I’m going down to work on the boat!” Stannis called loudly from the other side of the privy door, startling her from her thoughts.

 

“Very well,” she responded cheerfully.  “I will join you this afternoon. Take care, my love!”

 

“And you!”  She heard his reply already moving away.

 

This had become their routine of late, for Stannis to walk down to the site of their old camp and spend the morning working while Sansa tended to her household chores.  She would join him sometime after noon, carrying food for the mid-day meal that they would eat together. She was usually reluctant to see him go, but this morning at least it would give her time to think about whether or not today would be the right time to tell him about her condition.

 

Sansa waited a few minutes, making certain that Stannis was gone, before exiting the privy.  She quickly washed up in the basin before starting her chores, intending to have a proper bath at the waterfall, on the way to the beach.   Donning a straw hat with a ribbon to tie beneath her chin that she’d made to shield her face from the sun, she tended to the garden and fed the fowl they kept in the pens.  The sun was bright and warm, even this early in the day, but here on the mountain the breeze kept the temperature moderate. She did not envy Stannis, working on the boat in the hot sun at the edge of the jungle, though it made sense not to build it up here, only to be forced to drag it down the mountain through the jungle to the water’s edge.  

 

Thinking about the boat now, Sansa had mixed feelings. They had discussed that it would be prudent, though difficult, to attempt to build a vessel that they could use for fishing.  They had also discussed that if a time would come that it became evident that years might pass before any rescue, they might then use the boat to escape the island. That option was fraught with danger, and Sansa was still conflicted about whether or not the risks outweighed the rewards.  After all, they were happy here, and relatively safe. They had made a good life, but now, with the knowledge that she would give birth to their child, did that change the balance of things entirely? Did rescue become more necessary, or did risk become more intolerable? Perhaps both?  _  Aaaaaaaa! _   Sansa wanted to scream but only did so in her mind.  She realized that her thoughts had become a jumble and her emotions were getting the best of her.  Having a baby should be happy news, and yet it presented many difficulties. She would get nowhere stewing over questions which had no easy answers. She needed to talk to Stannis.  They would figure it out together, as they always had done.  

 

Her morning chores now finished, Sansa took a deep breath, excited to get to the beach and join her husband.  Removing her hat and running a comb through her hair, she twisted it into a pony tail and fastened it up as best she could in anticipation of traveling through the steamy jungle.  She gathered her things, running through her mental list so that she didn’t forget something important, before starting down the mountain path. Sansa glanced at the horizon as she had done a hundred times before, enjoying the beautiful panorama of sea and sky, but this time she saw something that stopped her in her tracks and caused her to drop the bundle of food she was carrying.  A small dot stood out against the vast expanse of deep blue sea that surrounded the island. Sansa squinted against the brightness of the sun that cast a shimmer over the water, straining to see more clearly as her feet instinctively carried her closer to the cliff’s edge.  _ There, it moved! _   She stared, transfixed as the distant object bobbed up and down like a cork on the waves.  It was a ship!  

 

Sansa couldn’t believe her eyes, even though the proof was in front of her!  She blinked several times, waiting for the object to vanish, a figment of her imagination.  After several minutes passed, she finally concluded that she was not mistaken. It was truly a ship and it seemed to be heading for the island!  Her heart racing, her thoughts spun through her mind so fast they were a blur. She needed to notify Stannis, but should she light the signal fire first?  Was rescue actually imminent? What if they weren’t intending on landing here, but merely passing? What if they didn’t see the smoke from the fire?

 

Sansa watched the direction of the ship with renewed interest, trying to make out the flag she was flying.  Was the ship from Westeros or some other land? It looked as if the colors were black and red, Targaryen colors.  Could it be? She hurried to the clearing that they had reserved for the signal fire, in the center of which Stannis had dug a shallow pit.  Dry branches with leaves were kept at the ready, Sansa only need throw them into a pile and light them with a torch drawn from the everyday cooking fire.  Stannis had gone through the drill with her several times, telling her it was important that she know what to do, in case he was indisposed, or worse. Sansa hadn’t wanted to think about such things, but now she was glad for his foresight.  

 

She had just finished dragging the first few pieces of wood into the pit when she was startled by a shout.  She looked up to find Stannis running toward her and waving. She stopped what she was doing and ran to meet him. She could see he was out of breath, his shirt soaked with sweat.  He had obviously been in a great hurry to reach her.

 

“Don’t light the fire!” he gasped between great gulps of air.  “It’s a pirate ship!”

 

Sansa’s heart froze in her chest and her hand went to her stomach, she felt sick again.

 

“Are you sure?” She asked, already knowing the answer.  

 

Stannis nodded, as if he didn’t want to say it out loud.  

 

“Get as much food together as you can carry, and gather the bedcovers.”

 

In his eyes she saw fear, and sorrow, but his voice was steady as he barked instructions.

 

“We’ll meet back here in five minutes.” 

 

“Sansa, hurry!” he shouted when she didn’t move right away.  

 

She blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes and nodded her understanding.  When she moved, her limbs felt stiff, as if she hadn’t used them in days. She quickly completed her task and joined Stannis again in the clearing.  He was holding some empty water containers, a fishing spear, and a net.  

 

“Maybe they won’t land here,” she mumbled, finding it as hard to speak as she had to move.  It was if all the life had drained from her and she was an empty shell. How could this be happening after all they had been through?  How could this be happening now?

 

“They are making way toward the beach where I found their abandoned camp.  I assume it’s the same men.”

 

Sansa nodded again, this time unable to stop the hot tears that ran down her cheeks.

 

“What will we do?  Where will we go?”

 

Both of their hands were full of supplies or Sansa would have fallen into Stannis’ arms.  She could tell by the helpless look on his face that he wanted to hold her close too. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek.

 

“We are going to the waterfall.  The cave behind it is the only place to hide.”

 

Sansa nodded, sniffing away the tears.  She had to be strong, for Stannis, and for herself and the child that she carried.

 

“We must hurry.  Are you ready?”  

 

Stannis studied her face carefully until he was assured that she was able to follow him, then he led the way down the mountain and through the jungle to the waterfall.  Sansa kept close, willing herself not to panic. They had survived against all odds and they would survive this as well. Arriving at the pool, Stannis turned toward Sansa.

 

“I’m going in first to make sure it’s safe, and find the best spot to hide.”  He set the containers at Sansa’s feet. “Fill these while I’m gone.”

 

Before Sansa could question him, Stannis dove into the water and began swimming.

 

“Be careful!”  She called, watching him disappear behind the waterfall before she set about doing as he’d asked.

 

Sansa tried not to think too much while she filled the containers with water from the pool.  Thinking would only drive her mad and make her more frightened than she already was. She couldn’t help but picture the pirate ship though, wondering how close they were now.  Had they made land yet? She fought to keep calm and wait until Stannis returned. After what seemed like an eternity, he emerged from the cave and she watched with relief as he swam to where she stood.  Stepping from the pool, water dripping from his hair, she noticed that his clothing was blackened and smeared, and his expression was grim. Despite his disheveled appearance, she thankfully gathered him into her arms and hugged him close.  They held each other in silence a few moments before Stannis spoke.

 

“It won’t be pleasant, but it’s all we can do,” he explained, after they parted.

 

“Can’t we just hide in the thickest parts of the jungle?” she asked, eyeing the cave apprehensively.

 

“They would find our trail.  Men like these are experienced explorers, we couldn’t be sure of hiding our tracks well enough.  Even if we could, the caves will be safer than being in the jungle after dark. Can you swim, carrying the food and sailcloth?”

 

Sansa nodded.  

 

“I’ll carry the rest.  Follow me and stay close,” Stannis instructed.  “The rocks are slippery and the footing is treacherous.”

 

Sansa did as she was told.  She was a strong swimmer, so the journey to the cave opening was not difficult, however nothing Stannis had said prepared her for what she encountered once they were inside.  The rocks were covered in a dirty slime, she didn’t know if it was from plant growth, mold, or the excrement of animals ─ probably a combination. Whatever the source, it was disgusting and made each step dangerous.  At times they had to climb steep rocks, and duck under overhangs which threatened to behead them, and all in near absolute darkness as they made their way further from the light of the entrance. Sansa slipped more than once and Stannis cursed as he hit his head on an unseen protruding rock.  Finally, they arrived in a tiny area that was relatively flat, but with a rock ceiling so low that Stannis had to stoop to remain standing and Sansa had to lower her head. It was nearly as black as tar, but she could feel Stannis next to her, his presence the only thing keeping her from rushing back out.  He took the bedcovers from her hands and spread them on the pebble strewn floor.

 

“Sit,” he said, keeping his voice low.  “We must be careful to whisper now. The rock magnifies the sound and anyone passing by might hear.”

 

Sansa sat, rubbing her arms in a useless attempt to sooth her scrapes and remove the grime that covered them.  She knew they couldn’t bring torches, the fire and smoke would give them away, but she wished more than anything for a fire to cheer them and warm the cool, damp, interior.

 

“How long must we remain here?” Sansa whispered, reaching for Stannis’ hand and pulling him down beside her.

 

Stannis put his arm around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder.  His strength gave her an emotional lift. At least they were together.

 

“Only until darkness has fallen, and then a few hours more to give them time to fall asleep.”

 

Sansa lifted her head in surprise.  She had thought they would stay several days at least.

 

“What are we to do then?”

 

Stannis hesitated, and Sansa could practically feel him grinding his teeth as he was want to do when he was in a particularly bad situation, or had bad news to deliver.  She sensed she wasn’t going to like his answer.

 

“There is no hiding place for us on this island where the pirates will not eventually find us.  They will know from our camp that we are here. There will be signs of our recent habitation. They will search for us and when they do, they will find us because there are few places we could be.”

 

“You are assuming that they will find the camp!” Sansa argued, trying to keep her voice low but failing to hide her horror at Stannis’ dire pronouncement. “What if they don’t climb the mountain?  What if they remain at their old camp and then leave in a few days time? We might remain safe here!”

 

“Sansa, I wish it could be that way.  You know how much I want us to be safe, but there is no chance that we will not be discovered,” his voice had become flat, as if he’d already given up hope.  “They will come here, to the waterfall. They must, as it’s the only water source on the island. They will have found it before or they wouldn’t be making their camp here once again.” 

 

“But, it matters not,” Sansa argued, squeezing his hand hard, wanting him to be wrong, as if convincing him could make it so.  “We are well hidden, you told me so. This is the only place on the island to hide.”

 

“Yes, for a few hours, or a few days only.  We are hidden, but our path is not. We’ve cleared a fine path, a well-marked path, up the mountain and down to the beach,” he said bitterly.  “It’s all my fault really, I should have had more foresight. I should have taken precautions to secure the area. I’m a bloody Captain no less!”

 

His last words came out in the anguished growl of a wounded animal.

 

“No! You musn’t blame yourself for anything!” Sansa pulled him close, burying her face against his neck.  “We had to survive and we did thanks to you. Don’t blame yourself. I will not stand for it!”

 

She found his face in the darkness, and felt her way to his lips, kissing him hard.  At least Stannis’ frustration had renewed her inner strength. They musn’t let fear and self-guessing drive them mad.  After a few moments, she pulled away, caressing his jaw until she felt him relax. They made a good team, the two of them.

 

“Now, if your plan wasn’t to hide, what would you have us do?”  She asked, forcing her voice to be calm.

 

“Under cover of darkness, when they will be at camp and not roaming around the jungle, we will make our way to the beach, to our boat.  It’s on the other side of the island from where they are, so we should have plenty of time to put to sea and make our escape.”

 

Sansa felt her stomach sink.   _ Put to sea. _   His words sent a shiver of fear trickling down her spine.  They were going to be adrift on the ocean again, just as they were before they found their island home.  Now it made sense, bringing the water and other supplies.

 

“I didn’t think the boat was finished yet.”

 

“Nearly so.  I can make her seaworthy in a few hours, before dawn.  We can put to sea with the next outgoing tide. I think we should have enough time to get away, assuming we make it past the reef.”

 

“The reef,” Sansa repeated, numbly.  Escape by ocean was as dangerous as staying put.  It was certain death against almost certain death.  “I had almost forgotten. It seems we don’t have any good options, do we?”

 

“No. I’m afraid not.”

 

Sansa wanted to cry, but she felt empty, beyond tears.  She took a deep breath. They had survived a great storm, being lost at sea, and being shipwrecked on a deserted island.  They had survived, fallen in love, and married. They could survive this. They would survive this.

 

“So, now we wait,” she sighed.

 

Stannis didn’t answer, but he wrapped Sansa in his arms once more and kissed her forehead.  They settled down and made themselves as comfortable as possible, and they waited.

 


	16. Hard Choices

 

“Bloody hell!”

 

Sansa heard a Stannis’ whispered growl in front of her as he helplessly slapped at the mosquitoes that were presently devouring the both of them as they made their way through the dark jungle.  Fortunately, there was a full moon, but even so, only a dim light trickled through the thick canopy and they could barely see to move as they trekked along the well-traversed path to the beach.  Sansa was discovering that at night the jungle teemed with wildlife, insects and night birds hunting the nocturnal rodents that scurried across the path in front of them. It was downright noisy at times, with the shrieks of furry animals and the croaking of frogs. She didn’t have time to be frightened though, she was focused on keeping up with Stannis and trying not to trip and fall.  She couldn’t help but think of the very first time they had traversed this path, and her sense of wonder at the unfamiliar surroundings. Then, like now, she was anxious about what would become of them, not knowing whether or not they would survive. Only then, Stannis was practically a stranger, and now he was her husband. She couldn’t help but marvel that even though the situation was similarly dire, so much had changed for the better.  She could feel an inner strength that had grown along with their love over the past months. She was still afraid, but as long as they were together she was confident they would overcome any challenge that was presented to them. She refused to give up hope. She might have done if she were the same Sansa Stark that had first sailed upon the Fury, the Sansa Stark that was betrothed to Joffrey, but now she was Sansa Baratheon, and she wouldn’t let others ─ not even pirates ─ control her life.

 

Her thoughts turned to the child she was carrying.  She had contemplated telling Stannis during the excruciating wait back in the cave, but decided that for now, she must keep the news of her condition to herself.  Stannis had enough on his mind, and already blamed himself for their predicament, though it was obviously no fault of his. If she were to tell him about their child, he would worry even more for their safety, and that might inhibit his ability to think clearly about their escape.  He didn’t need to know until they were safe again. 

 

“Stop!”  

 

Stannis’ sharp whisper caused her to freeze before she ran into the back of him.  He had stopped abruptly, in front of her. They were nearly to the beach, the dense jungle growth beginning to thin around them.  She wondered what had made Stannis halt, when she saw it too ─ an orange glow ─ a fire burning on the beach ahead!

 

Stannis held a finger to his lips, signalling her to remain silent, though she already knew to do so.  They listened intently, eyes scanning the perimeter of the beach ahead. Over the sounds of the jungle, she heard them ─ voices!  She couldn’t make out what they were saying, some of it may have been in a foreign language, she couldn’t be sure. Two words stood out though, as clear as a bell on a silent night,  _ Captain Blood _ .  Sansa felt a chill come over her despite the hot steamy jungle air.  She knew that name! Captain Blood was the name given to the notorious pirate, Ramsay Bolton.  She’d heard the sailors on the Fury talking about him, and how he was known to capture ships in the waters off of Sothoyros.  They said he took few prisoners. Some of those captured sailors joined his cause, others were kept as slaves, a precious few officers were ransomed, and the rest were flayed alive.  They said he enjoyed the flaying most of all. Bolton’s flag was the blood red sigil of a flayed man on a black background, the very flag she had observed.  

 

Stannis must have heard it too, for even in the darkness she could feel him tense, and he looked at her with renewed urgency in his gaze.  He tilted his head and pointed behind her, directing her to return from whence they came. This group of Bolton’s men, a scouting party perhaps, had landed on the beach.  They would have found the boat. Escaping from the island by sea was no longer an option.  

 

Sansa tried not to abandon all hope, but this new development hit her like a punch to the gut.  There was no choice left to them, other than to return to the cave and hide. Maybe they could come up with another plan.  Her limbs felt heavier than they had a moment ago as she allowed Stannis to pass her and take the lead. As they trudged through the jungle in silence, she was no longer aware of the biting insects or shrieking animals, only that time seemed to be passing more quickly now.  She wondered how long they had left.

 

~~~

  
  


Stannis wasn’t really certain how much time had passed as he held Sansa close and stroked her hair.   _ A day and night at least? _   He was well aware of what a brave woman she was, yet he was still impressed by her inner strength during this time.  It was nearly pitch black inside the cave, and while it had protected them from the pirates, the sounds of scurrying rodents and insects were as prevalent here as they were in the jungle.  Merely sitting here under these conditions for an entire day and night was a mental and physical challenge, never mind the stress from the constant fear of discovery. Sansa hadn’t cried once since that one brief time when she’d first learned of their perilous situation.  She had been his beacon of light in the darkness, his reason for continuing to try, despite the overwhelming odds against their survival.  

 

He knew that should it come down to it, he would give his life protecting Sansa.  However, a quick death would be the best he could hope for, and once he was gone, Sansa would have it far worse.  Giving his life was not the selfless act that it seemed. He didn’t know what to do. He was at a loss for the best way to keep Sansa alive, which was his only concern.  To make matters worse, he was finding it difficult to concentrate is this dank, disgusting hell hole. Despite the warmth from Sansa’s body, he felt chilled, unlike the previous night.  It must be getting colder in the cave though he knew that conclusion made no sense. He also felt extremely fatigued, probably from sitting in the same small area all day, and from the lack of sleep, for though his eyes kept wanting to close, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep.  He hadn’t done more than doze for the last two days.  _ Was it two days or three? _

 

“What did you say?” he asked, clearly hearing Sansa’s voice, but not understanding the words.  

 

“I didn’t say anything,” she replied softly.  “You need to keep your voice down, remember where we are.”

 

Had he spoken loudly?  Of course he remembered where they were, how could he forget?  Why was Sansa reminding him of it now?

 

“Are you going to answer my question?”

 

“What question?” 

 

She was caressing his face now, her hand lingering on his forehead.  He wished she would focus on the conversation, the problem at hand and stop fussing over him.

 

“Do you agree that we should climb up the mountain as far as we can, and try for a defensible position?”   
  


“Are you sure?  We haven’t discussed it.  How would we defend ourselves?”  Sansa asked, seemingly confused by the question.

 

What does she mean  _ we haven’t discussed it _ ?  He distinctly remembered them discussing this very plan.  Or had they? Perhaps he’d only been thinking about it. What if─ if─  No, he’d forgotten already.  _ Why is it so bloody difficult to concentrate? _

 

“I─ I’m sorry─” he apologized.

 

“Darling, why don’t you lie down?” Sansa whispered, coaxing him gently to the ground and lowering his head onto something soft.  “I think you’re exhausted. You’ll feel better when you’ve had some sleep.”

 

He couldn’t understand everything she was saying, but the soothing way in which it was said made him comply without question.  His head swam as he leaned back and closed his eyes, he shivered, cold once again. Thankfully, he felt someone cover him with a blanket, probably Sansa, he remembered she was beside him.  Perhaps he could sleep now, just for an hour or two. That would make all the difference.

 

~~~

 

Sansa woke from a fitful doze with a start.  Had she heard a noise? Was someone outside? She listened intently before realizing that it had only been Stannis mumbling in his sleep.  Sometime during the night her worst fears had been confirmed. Stannis wasn’t acting strangely because he was simply exhausted, he had taken ill with a raging fever.  His cheek was hot to the touch, and he was shivering so hard his teeth chattered. She had torn a bit of her skirt to use for a cloth, which she dampened and placed over his forehead.  Thankfully, he fell asleep and remained so, though he had become so restless at times, she had cradled his head in her lap so that she might prevent him from thrashing about, and could cover his mouth if he cried out.  She attempted to get him to drink a few sips of water, but in his delirium he refused to partake. Finally, she had exhausted herself from caregiving and worrying, and had fallen into a fitful sleep. She had awoken to find the cave bathed in a dim, yet brighter light, a sign that the sun had risen.  It should have lifted her spirits but it did not. Now, she not only had to worry about Stannis’ health, but about the possibility of discovery. The pirates would not be out searching at night, but most certainly would continue during daylight hours. Once, the previous afternoon, she had heard voices near the waterfall, presumably from pirates swimming and gathering water, but no attempt was made to enter the caves.  They had been safe for another day, but for how much longer?  

 

Surely, being captured must be preferable to the constant torture of waiting, and watching Stannis’ illness get worse?  At least if they were killed it would all be over. She knew it wouldn’t be a simple death though, there were many kinds of torture, and she gathered from his reputation that Bolton wouldn’t just kill them and put them out of their misery ─ for him, their misery was the whole point.  She only knew that if the pirates came for them, she would fight to the death to protect Stannis. She kept his knife and the spear close. She would try to use them on any man who entered the cave. She would protect her husband or die in the attempt. Realistically though, she knew she didn’t know how to fight against a man.  She would probably be easily disarmed by a stronger opponent. Still, she would try.

 

Stannis began to thrash about again, twisting his body and turning his head from side to side.  She wrapped one arm around his chest and put the damp cloth to his forehead with her free hand, pressing it tightly to still him.

 

“Shhhhh, my darling.  Be still. Rest.”  

 

She kissed his cheek, dismayed that his skin was still burning hot.  She tried to stifle a growing sense of fear and frustration. If only she could get out of this cave!  She knew from her mother’s training that she could extract a medicine from the bark of a willow tree to help relieve Stannis’ fever.  She had never attempted it before, but was grateful for the knowledge. Sadly, to leave the cave would risk almost certain discovery. Not only that, she would need a fire to boil the bark, even if she could find the right type of tree.  Besides, she couldn’t bear to leave Stannis alone! It was all so hopeless! The maddening turmoil of her thoughts and fears brought hot tears to her eyes. It was so unfair. They had come so far only to have happiness snatched from their fingers! 

 

Blinking back her tears, angry with herself for giving in to such useless emotions, Sansa looked around, suddenly confused.  Was it getting lighter in the cave? She studied the rocks in the direction from which they had entered, certain that she was able to make out more detail than she had a few moments ago.  Then she heard a sound that made her heart stop, and chilled the blood in her veins. The voices of men! They’d entered the cave and were searching it! The light was from the torches they carried.

 

_ No, no, no, no!  _ Sansa looked at Stannis, unable to defend them, and with him in her arms she couldn’t even reach the spear ─ not that it would be of much use against a few strong pirates.  She couldn’t believe that it would end like this, surrendering without even a fight! What could she do? The only weapon she had was Stannis’ knife. She couldn’t do more than injure a pirate or two with it before they took it from her.  A dark sensation of dread ran through her core as she thought of the worst. Would it be better to end it now rather than leave their fate in the hands of Ramsay Bolton? If she were to take Stannis’ life, followed by her own, at least they could have a quick and peaceful death.  She studied his handsome face intently, unable to hold back her tears as she stroked his hair to soothe him. Stannis continued his fitful sleep, thankfully unaware of how dire their situation had become.

 

“We’ll find ‘em in here, I tell ye.”

 

They were so close now that Sansa could make out their words.  They were just around the bend it seemed. She must decide now, if she were to have any choice at all!

 

“Aye, the Captain will surely give us the reward he promised!”

 

As if sensing the danger they were in, Stannis suddenly groaned in his sleep.

 

“Shhhh!  Did ya hear that?”  The pirate hissed, his words as clear as if he was standing next to Sansa.

 

Sansa slowly unsheathed the knife tied to Stannis’ breeches.  Her tears blurred her vision, but her hands moved of their own volition.  All conscious thought had left her body. She felt as if she was outside of herself, watching the two of them as she caressed Stannis with one hand and held the knife in the other, her heart numbed in resignation.  It was if she were already dead.  

 

She clutched the knife so tightly, her fingers were white with tension, but as she held it to Stannis’ throat they suddenly sprang open, and it fell to the ground, making a sharp sound as it bounced off a rock.  She couldn’t do it! She could never harm Stannis, not even if it meant lessening his suffering. The enormity of her realization sucked the breath from her chest and caused a new wave of tears to flow down her cheeks as she began to sob quietly.  She had doomed them both to fate!

 

She was so overcome, that a distant booming sound almost failed to register.  The sound was so powerful that she felt it in her chest, and it shook the ground.  A full minute passed when it happened again. It was the reaction of the pirates that finally brought her senses to full alert.  Something unexpected was happening.

 

“Thems the cannons!”  One shouted.

 

“What in the Seven Hells?! We better get back quick!”  Answered the other.

 

She heard the sounds their boots made, scrambling over rocks, and their fervent curses when they slipped and banged an elbow or a knee, until at last they were gone.  It was quiet save for the distant booming which intermittently continued, but Sansa couldn’t think about what it might mean right then. Stannis was growing restless again, his fever worsening, and her only thought was for him.  She raised a coconut husk filled with water to his lips, trying to tempt him to drink, but was unable to get more than a few drops into his mouth. She re-wet the cloth, and smoothed it over his fevered brow, whispering soft words of love and encouragement.  At some point, the sounds of what the pirates had called cannon fire stopped, and Stannis quieted, but Sansa was unaware of anything more, for her body finally succumbed to exhaustion and, leaning her head back against the cool rock, she slept.

 

~~~

 

After some time Sansa awoke, a soft cry springing from her lips.  In the almost complete darkness of the cave, she had no clue whether it was day or night, or how long she had slept, she only knew that Stannis’ head was no longer in her lap.  Feeling around in a moment of panic, she was dismayed when her searching hands found him about three feet away, lying on the filthy cave floor. His breath seemed labored, a wheezing noise emanating from deep within his chest that caused her concern.  He was mumbling to himself again as well, and she could only imagine that he’d tried to move, and in his delirious state, had fallen.

 

“Stannis, you mustn’t try to get up, my love,” she whispered, turning him over and struggling to drag him back onto the sailcloth blanket.  Somehow, he’d also managed to overturn all the supplies, the contents of the water containers spilling out onto the cave floor. She would have to refill them, Stannis couldn’t go without water for long.  

 

“I’ll be right back,” Sansa promised, after making him as comfortable as possible.  

 

She grabbed two of the largest containers and, feeling with an outstretched arm to prevent her from running into any protruding rocks, she slowly made her way toward the entrance of the cave.  After a few dozen yards, it became apparent that it was daylight outside, for slightly more light filtered into the cave, allowing her to see a little better. This aided her progress, and although the footing was a treacherous as she remembered, Sansa found herself emerging from the cave entrance in a few minutes time.  

 

From the height of the sun, she deduced that it was early morning.  It felt so good to stand up again, and to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and for a moment she forgot how dangerous it was for her to be outside.  The rushing of the waterfall drowned out any sounds that might signal the approach of the pirates, but also obscured her view of the pool and surrounding jungle.  At least it served to hide her somewhat too, while she remained behind it.  

 

Sansa looked warily around and, not seeing anyone in the immediate area behind the falls, took a moment to stretch her stiff limbs.  She wondered if she could risk a quick swim in the pool to wash the grime from her face, hair, and clothing. Carefully, she climbed down to the path that skirted the pool.  She still saw no one, so she continued toward the ledge where she and Stannis would often sunbathe after swimming. The memory of those times lifted her spirits a moment, and brought a fleeting smile to her lips.  When she rounded the outcropping of rocks that bordered the ledge, happiness turned to alarm and she stopped abruptly, frozen in place by what she saw. A bearded man, dressed in a fine cotton blouse and breeches, knelt at the water’s edge, scooping water with his hands to drink from the pool.  Her heart stuttered once, fearing she’d been caught, but then began racing with excitement. Her mind was telling her that her eyes must be deceiving her. This man was no pirate ─ this man she knew!

 

“Father?!” 

 

Sansa blinked hard several time as the man leapt to his feet, startled by her presence.  

 

Had she caught Stannis’ fever?  Was she as delirious as he? She was convinced that she must be mad for thinking that Ned Stark stood before her, but in a moment his look of surprise became one of disbelief matching her own, then one of elation.

 

“Sansa!  Is it you?  My little girl! You’re alive!” He shouted.

 

When she heard his words, she became convinced that he must be real.  The next thing Sansa knew, her face was pressed against her father’s chest as he gripped her in a tight hug.  Their laughter was uncontained as Sansa’s tears of joy soaked into his blouse. All was not lost after all. At long last they were rescued!

 


	17. Reunions

 

“We thought we’d lost you,” Ned said, as Sansa continued to gape at him in disbelief.

 

“How did you get here?  Did you see the pirates?  Are they still here? Is Mother with you?”  

 

Sansa’s head swirled with so many questions she didn’t know where to begin and they flowed out of her like water from a fountain.

 

“We sighted the pirate ship a few days ago.  We thought we’d lost them at sea, but then spotted them again making for this island.  We waited until they came ashore to attack their ship. Many of them surrendered, but most were killed, including Ramsay Bolton.  You need not fear them now.”

 

“And Mother?”  Sansa asked again, not really certain if she could handle the answer.  Ned’s smile reassured her before the words had left his mouth.

 

“Oh yes, everyone is here.  Robb is with the men securing the beach. Catelyn is on the ship ─ The Fury,” he explained.  

 

Sansa’s eyes brimmed with fresh tears, her lips bursting into a smile that lit up her face.  

 

“I knew she was alive, I felt her with me!  That means the Fury wasn’t lost?”

 

“No. She was badly damaged, but was able to make it to Sothoyros. Robert arranged for repairs, and afterwards, three moons ago now, we set out in search of you and Stannis.”  Ned’s smile faded. “Do you know what happened to him? Is he─”

 

“─Stannis is here, in the cave!” Sansa interrupted, grabbing her father’s arm. The mention of Stannis had forced her thoughts back to the present situation and the urgent need for medical attention.  “We were hiding there. He’s taken a fever. He’s very ill, you must help him!”

 

Ned’s brow furrowed in concern.

 

“Yes, of course! We will get him to the ship as soon as possible.  Robert will be relieved that we found Stannis too. This is beyond belief!  We had no idea if the two of you were even alive, let alone together.”

 

“Come, help me move him,” Sansa tugged on her father, unable to think of Stannis alone in that dark place a moment longer than necessary.  “The sunshine will do him good, and he needs water badly.”

 

“We will make sure he gets proper care,” Ned replied, but to Sansa’s frustration failed to move.  “Robert can see to him when he returns. He and some officers saw signs of boar and formed a hunting party.  We need to resupply the ship’s stores before leaving the island, especially with the additional prisoners we’ve taken on.”  Showing sympathy for Sansa’s distress, he added, “They will be back soon. Stannis isn’t in any immediate danger is he?”

 

“What do you mean?  He needs our help. He needs medical attention!”  Sansa didn’t understand why Ned wasn’t listening to her.

 

“Yes, but there isn’t anything you or I can do for him.  It will take a few men with a stretcher to move him. Right now, I want to escort you back to the Fury and have your mother look at you.  Joffrey is there too,” Ned shifted his eyes awkwardly to someplace behind Sansa. “His breakfast didn’t agree with him and he felt too unwell to join the search party, but he will be excited to see that you survived, as I’m sure you are excited to see him.”

 

With that said, he attempted another reassuring smile, seemingly unaware that all the color had drained from Sansa’s face.  Her heart fluttered like a caged bird frantically trying to escape a marauding cat. Joffrey was on the ship! Of course he was.  The very thought of facing him filled her with dread, though she was careful not to let her alarm show in her expression or sound in her voice.

 

“I want to go to the ship as soon as possible, but I won’t leave without Stannis,” she said, the force of her words causing Ned’s eyes to widen in surprise.  Sansa knew that she was a different woman now, no longer the innocent and obedient girl he had known when they’d parted two years ago. Her stubborn defiance must have sounded very strange to him.

 

“You must have become very close,” Ned said slowly, studying her face while trying to understand her refusal to leave.  “He probably took care of you while the two of you were stranded, and for that I’m in his debt. Thank the Seven you were able to survive this long.  Our families have truly been favored by the Gods.”  
  
Sansa nodded, trying to remain calm.  “He saved my life.”  

 

She wanted to blurt out that they were married, that Stannis was her husband and she wouldn’t leave his side, but warning bells were sounding inside her head.  The reality of her situation was suddenly clear. No one in Westeros would consider their marriage a lawful one, and she mustn’t do anything that would risk bringing reprisal against Stannis, for he would be the one Ned and the others would blame if they found out she was carrying his child.  Stannis had warned her from the beginning that there might be difficulties were they to return to Westeros, but at the time she’d chosen not to think of an uncertain future, and instead focus on the love they shared. Now she feared his dire predictions might come to pass. If she could only speak with Stannis!  Together they could decide what to do. If only they could explain it the right way, her family would understand. For now, she held her tongue, and tried not to let the extent of her fears show.

 

“I promise you that Stannis will get the care that he needs, but it would be best if you come with me and leave the rest to Robert,” Ned insisted.

 

Thankfully, Sansa was saved from further argument by the appearance of Robert Baratheon and the rest of the hunting party emerging from the jungle.  Two men in seaman’s uniforms carried between them a dead boar, recently killed. The beast was strapped to two thick poles which they balanced on their shoulders, while several officers bearing weapons led the way.  For some reason, the sight of the still bloody carcass made Sansa’s stomach turn, but she managed to suppress her reaction. When Robert spotted her standing next to Ned, he halted a moment, staring with his mouth agape, before rushing toward them, reminding Sansa of a charging boar himself.

 

“Seven Hells! Lady Sansa Stark you are a sight for sore eyes! Where did you find her Ned?!”

 

He laughed heartily as he smothered Sansa in an enthusiastic hug.

 

“It was she that found me,” Ned answered with a chuckle.

 

“Stannis and I were hiding in the cave behind the waterfall,” Sansa explained quickly, before Robert could waste more time with questions.  

 

“Stannis?!  Here?! Thank the gods! Where is he?”  

 

Robert held her at arms length, looking from Sansa to Ned and back again, clearly moved by the news.

 

“He’s in a cave, behind the waterfall.  We have to help him!” Sansa pleaded, gesturing in the direction she wanted him to go.  She hoped that Robert would understand the urgency of the situation more than her father.  “He was unconscious when I left him. He’s got a terrible fever!”

 

“We were waiting for your return, so that the men could carry him back to the Fury,” Ned explained.  “I was just about to take Sansa there myself.”

 

Sansa noticed the other men from the hunting party had gathered around them.  Some were staring pointedly at her legs and breasts. Suddenly she remembered her revealing island attire!  She was showing bare shoulders, a fair amount of cleavage, and her shortened skirt exposed her long legs to mid-thigh.  What had become the norm on Hope Island was quite inappropriate in Westeros. Ned seemed to notice the roving eyes of the sailors and immediately removed his coat and wrapped it around Sansa’s shoulders, though it did little to cover her legs.  Robert suddenly seemed uncomfortable as well.

 

“Yes, yes, you take care of the little lady, and I’ll see about Stannis,” he said.  “She needs to get some proper clothing and a good meal in her belly. You men, quit your gawking and come with me over to that cave and help get my brother out of there!”  He singled out three of the burlier men and pointed them in the direction of the waterfall.

 

“Please let me come with you,” Sansa begged.  “I can show you where he is.”

 

Robert regarded her as if she were half mad, and she knew she probably sounded that way.  She wanted to return to Stannis so much she wanted to scream in frustration.

 

“We’ll find him, don’t you worry your pretty head about it.  Now go with Ned. Joffrey, Robb and Catelyn will be thrilled to see you!”

 

Sansa opened her mouth to argue, but with everyone staring at her she thought better of it.  Stannis’ health was all that mattered, and Robert was hurrying to his rescue. She hated to admit that he was right, she probably would be in the way in the cramped confines of the cave.  She would have to do as she was bid this time and try to control her worry until she and Stannis were reunited on the ship. Stannis had to get better soon, she needed him beside her, and then they could decide together how to tell the others about their marriage.

 

She nodded her head and allowed Ned to escort her down the path toward the beach.  

 

Before she had gone two steps she turned and called out to Robert, “Please let me know as soon as you have Stannis aboard the Fury.  I want to see him!”

 

 To her dismay, she saw he was already halfway to the cave, and she wasn’t certain that he’d heard.

 

~~~

  


Sansa smoothed her hand over the pale blue dress with the lace bodice that Catelyn had laid out on her bunk.  After the ages she’d spent wearing a tattered chemise, it would feel odd to have her body covered in layers of tightly fitted fabric again. She would enjoy feeling fashionable, clean clothes, but not the restrictions to her movements. She’d grown used to her casual state of dress on the island.  She was currently wearing a fine new cotton chemise to replace her own heavily altered version, and it felt absolutely decadent. Other comforts were even more welcome. She had to admit, the simple hot bath that she’d just emerged from had seemed luxurious as well. The soap she’d made on the island had been the best she could do, but it was no comparison to the real thing.  While bathing, the memories of herself and Stannis lathering each other’s backs in the pool near the waterfall tugged at her heart and made her wonder for the hundredth time what was happening with her husband. She felt so guilty for enjoying all the conveniences that were offered aboard the Fury, when Stannis was still suffering. A tap on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Catelyn entered the cabin.

 

“You’d better hurry and get dressed.  Joffrey has been asking to see you.”

 

She gathered Sansa into her arms and held her close again.  Their tearful reunion had happened just a couple of hours before, and Catelyn had only reluctantly left her daughter’s side while she was bathing.  Her mother had been studying her intently as if she didn’t quite believe she was really here. Although they’d shared brief stories about what had happened to each of them since the storm that had damaged the Fury, they had not had time to have a frank conversation.  Sansa hadn’t been able to find the right opportunity to tell her about her marriage to Stannis, or even decide if she should yet. 

 

“Is there any word about Stannis?  Have they brought him aboard?” Sansa asked, deflecting any talk of a dreaded meeting between herself and her former fiance.

 

“Yes. Robert has placed him in one of the officer’s cabins.  The Maester is with him now. Robert thought it prudent to set sail with Maester Pycelle, in case we found you injured or ran into any trouble.”

 

“I want to see Stannis, before I do anything else,” Sansa stated, taking the dress from her bunk.

 

Catelyn didn’t say anything as she helped her daughter into her clothing, lacing up the form-fitting bodice from behind.  When she spoke at last, Sansa could detect the curiosity, with a hint of disapproval, in her voice that she was attempting to hide.

 

“I suppose it makes sense that you would be concerned for him.  You and Stannis were alone together on that island for all that time and you must have become familiar with each other out of necessity.  Did you get along well? I know that Stannis can be quite insufferable at times, and the two of you were not on the best of terms before the storm.”

 

“Yes, we became good friends.” Sansa replied simply, not wishing to arouse her mother’s suspicion, but at the same time debating on whether or not she should tell her the truth.  It seemed wrong to make any decision before she was able to discuss it with Stannis. “I need to see that he’s recovering. I want him to know that I’m here with him.”

 

“I’ll instruct the Maester to keep you informed as to his health, but I don’t think he requires your presence at the moment,”  Catelyn explained firmly. “You’d only be in the way. You can visit him when he recovers. Besides, it would seem strange if you went to see Stannis before you greeted your fiance, don’t you think?”

 

Catelyn studied her face intently while waiting for Sansa to answer what was obviously a question loaded with potential pitfalls.  As Sansa had come to learn, her mother had an unnerving ability to sense when her daughter was hiding something.

 

Sansa weighed her ability to keep her secret from Catelyn for any length of time, versus her desire to discuss the decision with Stannis, not knowing when he would be recovered enough to speak with her.  Ultimately, it was her need to confide in someone, and her love and trust for her mother, that swayed her to act.

 

“Mother, I need to tell you something, but you must keep it to yourself, and not tell anyone ─ not even Father,” Sansa pleaded, her hands clenching with anxiety.

 

“Of course, child, you can tell me anything,” Catelyn responded in a hushed tone, taking her hands to soothe her.

 

“Stannis and I aren’t just friends.  We married on the island ─ he’s my husband.” 

 

Sansa lifted her chin defiantly, bracing for the inevitable admonishment but hoping that Catelyn might be happy for her.

 

“What are you saying?”  Catelyn’s mouth opened in surprise, her brow wrinkling in disapproval.  She squeezed Sansa’s hands so hard she had to pull away in discomfort. Catelyn shook her head a few times as if trying to dislodge the offending words from her ears.

 

“What nonsense is this? It’s impossible!”  Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Have you two been intimate?” she asked, not masking the disdain in her question.

 

Sansa hesitated, then nodded, a lead weight sinking to the bottom of her stomach.  She had half hoped that her mother would understand, but obviously she did not. How had she so misjudged Catelyn’s response?  If Catelyn was this upset, how would her father respond to the news?

 

“I love him, Mother.”  

 

Sansa knew for a fact that her feelings were written on her face and evident in her voice.  How could her mother believe otherwise?

 

Catelyn began to pace, still shaking her head.  Sansa watched her in silence, realizing too late that this had been a bad idea.  Finally, she took a deep breath and turned to Sansa, taking her by the shoulders.  Her expression was one of sadness and sympathy, which surprised Sansa who had been expecting anger.

 

“I’m very disappointed in Stannis. You were completely dependent upon him and he took advantage of you. I’m sorry for that, but we can put this behind us and pretend that it never happened,” Catelyn explained, her soothing tone irritating Sansa’s nerves even more than her words.  Catelyn continued even as Sansa recoiled from her touch. “This doesn’t have to sully your reputation, or change anything at all if you just don’t speak of it. You aren’t the first young lady to be seduced by an older man. I’ll talk to Stannis when he is well and let him know that he has no claim upon you.  You won’t ever have to be alone with him again.”

 

It was Sansa’s turn to stare at her mother in stunned silence, incredulous at what she’d just said.  Catelyn had confirmed her worst fears, that Stannis would be blamed for their relationship. It was if she hadn’t heard a word that Sansa had spoken.  Did she not see how her daughter had become a woman on the island? Why was she acting as if she did not know her own heart? Why was she putting all of the blame on Stannis, who had done nothing to deserve such treatment?

 

“What are you saying?  None of that is true. Stannis never took advantage of me. He isn’t that kind of man.  If you must know, I was the one who seduced him! We did marry. We _are_ married.  He is my husband and I love him.  I will not pretend otherwise!”

 

Sansa was shaking, anger and frustration constricting her throat, preventing her from sounding as rational as she wanted.  She was trying to argue with her mother, woman to woman, but her mother was treating her as she would a disobedient child.

 

“You are _not_ married,” Catelyn countered, scowling. “Not in any legal sense, which is all that matters.  Has Stannis even obtained a divorce from Selyse? He isn’t free to marry you even if you were available, which you are not.  Must I remind you of your engagement to Joffrey?”

 

“Stannis and I discussed these matters.  On the island, we didn’t know if we’d ever be rescued so it didn’t seem important.”  Sansa averted her eyes, knowing that her mother’s argument was valid now that they were back in the civilized world.  Still, it couldn’t be as much of a dilemma as Catelyn was making it to be. “Selyse abandoned her marriage. It is but a legal formality for Stannis to obtain the proper documents for an annulment.  As for Joffrey, I will tell him that I am no longer free to marry him.”

 

“Foolish girl,” Catelyn admonished, pursing her lips.  “You don’t understand what a scandal this will bring upon both of our houses, and for no reason.”  She regarded her daughter a moment when suddenly her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t carrying his child are you?  His bastard? Is that why you won’t admit that this marriage is a farce?”

 

Her mother’s harsh accusation was too much for Sansa to bear and she began to cry.  She turned her back and folded her arms across her stomach, reflexively shielding her unborn babe.  It was so unfair to have to face everything alone! She wanted desperately to have Stannis by her side.  It was obvious that Catelyn knew instantly from Sansa’s reaction that she had guessed the truth, so she might as well admit it.  

 

“Don’t call it that!  It’s our baby. Stannis doesn’t even know yet,” she managed between trembling lips and sniffles.

 

Thankfully, despite her disapproval, Sansa knew that Catelyn regretted her tone when she moved to comfort her daughter.  Taking Sansa into her arms once more, she stroked her hair and whispered for her to hush her crying.

 

“There, there, you poor girl.  Everything will work out. I only want what is best for you.  If you marry Joffrey soon, there is no reason he must know that the child isn’t his.”

 

Sansa pulled back, horrified by her mother’s suggestion.  She swiped angrily at her tears with the backs of her hands.  Sniffing to keep further tears from falling. She needed to act like the grown woman she was, there was no one to stand up for her but herself.

 

“For the last time, Mother, I love Stannis, not Joffrey!  I intend to keep him as my husband and have his child, with or without your approval,” she snapped, her tone leaving no doubt as to her determination.  “You have always told me of the importance of marrying for love. I followed your advice and I’m happier with Stannis than I ever thought possible. I want you to be happy for us, but if you refuse, it will not change my mind.”

 

Catelyn frowned, her expression conveying just how unwilling she was to accept what Sansa was saying.  Finally, after much soul searching, her features softened, as if Sansa had worn her down. She sighed heavily and held Sansa’s gaze, her eyes bright with emotion.

 

“Very well.  I do not condone it, but I understand how passionate a young woman can be about the man she loves, or _thinks_ she loves.  I only ask that you give it time.  You are right not to tell anyone just yet, especially not Ned.  When Stannis recovers ─ _if_ he recovers, we will discuss it with him.  He may not welcome a scandal as much as you.”  

 

“Stannis _will_ recover,” Sansa snapped defensively, stunned by her mother’s words, even more so because she’d verbalized Sansa’s greatest fear.  “And, he loves me as much as I love him. You’ll see.”

 

“Maybe so,” Catelyn continued.  “For now, I will tell Joffrey and the others that you are not feeling well.  It’s to be expected after what you’ve been through. I’ll convince them that you need some time to recover before you will be up to greeting visitors.  We will discuss your options further when I return.”

 

“Thank you, Mother,” Sansa replied, nodding gratefully.  “Please, find out about Stannis’ condition. I must know how he is doing!”

 

She wanted to go to Stannis at once, but realized that her presence outside of the cabin, and at Stannis’ bedside, would invite numerous questions that she was not prepared to answer. Besides, she might run into Joffrey on the way.  Her mother was right, for the moment it was best that she confine herself to her quarters.

 

“I will,” Catelyn answered, resigned to Sansa’s demands.  “Get some rest. I’ll return shortly.”

 

Sansa nodded again, but as she watched Catelyn leave, she felt the familiar chill of anxiety causing her to shiver despite the warm temperature.  She’d been in this very cabin months ago and had felt a similar sense of dread before the great storm. Another storm was brewing, but this one had nothing to do with the weather.  Sansa only hoped that she and Stannis, and their love, would survive this one too.

 


	18. Taking Care

 

The sounds of men shouting and boats being lowered awakened Sansa from a restless sleep.  Her first thought was of Stannis, wondering how he was faring and if she would be able to see him soon.  She didn’t care about all the obstacles that Catelyn had warned her about, she only knew that she needed to be reunited with Stannis.  She was rinsing her face at the small basin near her bunk when Catelyn entered.

 

“I brought you something to break your fast,” she said, placing some fruit and hard tack on the bedside table.  “Are you having any morning sickness?”

 

“How is Stannis?” Sansa asked immediately, too impatient to discuss her own health.

 

Her mother’s expression appeared concerned, but not anxious, which Sansa took as a good sign.  She even offered a reassuring smile.

 

“The Maester says he’s responding well to the medicine, and his fever seems lower.  He’s expecting that it will break soon. Stannis still hasn’t woken, but I think he will recover.”

 

Sansa let out a deep breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.  Stannis wasn’t out of danger yet, but this was very welcome news.

 

“I want to see him,” she demanded, her fierce gaze belying her determination.  “I want him to know that I’m here with him.”

 

Catelyn loosed a frustrated sigh, clearly thinking that Sansa’s request was a bad idea, but to Sansa’s delight she begrudgingly agreed.

 

“I expected as much.  Very well then. Most of the men have gone ashore, and this time Joffrey went with them.  I expect now is as good a time as any for you to visit Stannis. Just see that you don’t make a fool of yourself over him ─ word will get out.”

 

Sansa threw her arms around Catelyn and embraced her, giddy at the prospect of being reunited with Stannis at long last.

 

“I’ll be careful.  I promise!”

 

Catelyn patted her back dutifully.  

 

“Eat something first, and get dressed.  I’ll check to make certain that the Maester has finished with him, and then we will go together.”

 

Sansa eyed the food skeptically, knowing that even if her morning sickness had subsided, she was too anxious to eat until she had seen Stannis with her own eyes.  She glanced at Catelyn, expecting her to take her leave, but instead she hesitated near the cabin door as if she had something else to say.

 

“One more thing,” Catelyn began, provoking Sansa’s curiosity.  “When you’re out and about on the ship, be careful. There are dangerous men aboard and it wouldn’t do for a comely young woman to attract their attention.”

 

“Do you mean the captured pirates?  Are they free to roam the ship?”

 

Catelyn shook her head.

 

“No, the pirates have been confined to the hold.  I’m speaking of a band of men known as the Stormcrows ─ sellswords that Robert hired.”

 

“Sellswords ─ aboard the Fury?”  Sansa was thoroughly confused. “But, why?”

 

Catelyn scowled, clearly disapproving of the men.

 

“When it was proposed that Ramsay Bolton was accosting ships in the area, Robert said that extra protection was necessary, and Ned agreed.  He recruited the Stormcrows, who were wintering in Sothoryos for dubious reasons that have never been made clear─” she pursed her lips in exasperation, signalling an end to the subject.  “─just give them a wide berth, child. I don’t like them, nor do I trust them.”

 

Sansa nodded.  She had no reason to doubt her mother’s assessment, and in this matter, she would follow her good advice.

 

“Why have so many men gone ashore?  When will they return?”

 

“The Captain ordered that the holds be filled with supplies before day’s end.  We sail for Sothoyros tomorrow at dawn.”

 

“Captain?  I thought Robert was in charge,” Sansa chuckled, bringing a smile to Catelyn’s lips.

 

“Robert Baratheon financed your rescue, so you’d best be respectful,” she admonished, but the twinkle in her eyes assured Sansa she wasn’t angry.

 

“Oh, I’m very grateful to him, and so happy to see you all again, truly I am!”

 

Catelyn beamed, and Sansa knew she felt the same.  Now, if only she would approve of her marriage to Stannis!  Sansa decided it was best not to bring up that argument again, lest Catelyn change her mind about letting her see him.

 

“Eat,” her mother ordered once again before taking her leave.

 

Sansa sat on her bunk and sampled a small bite of fruit.  Her mother was right, she needed to keep up her strength, for the babe she carried inside her, and for Stannis as well.  Both of them needed her now. She was willing her stomach to behave and wishing her mother would return soon when she heard a soft tap on her door.   _ That was quick. _   She pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her body and opened the door expecting Catelyn, but was astonished to see her brother, Robb, standing before her.

 

“May I come in?” he asked, hesitantly, before Sansa eagerly pulled him into her warm embrace.

 

“Robb!  It’s been so long!  Of course, come in.”  She motioned for him to enter and offered him a seat on her small bunk, before settling herself beside him.  “Why have you not gone ashore with the rest of them?”

 

Robb made himself as comfortable as possible, leaning back against the plank wall.  Sansa noted that he looked well. He was tan and clean shaven, his dark, curly hair longer than she remembered, but neatly trimmed.  He wore a white, linen shirt, open at the neck and breeches made of calf-skin. A gold chain around his neck with an intricately carved wolf’s head medallion, spoke of the prosperity he must have found in Sothoryos.

 

“I stayed behind today to see to the preparations here, and because I wished to see you.  I was exploring down the beachhead yesterday when I heard you’d been found and taken back to the ship.  I helped them bring Captain Baratheon aboard, but then Mother said you weren’t feeling well. I hope you are better today.”

 

“Much better, thank you, and how have you been?  How is Jeyne?”

 

“Jeyne is well.  We have made a good life in Sothoryos. She is with child again.”

 

“Again?  You have a child?”

 

“A son, named Eddard, after Father,” Rob grinned as he spoke of his family, his face radiating pride.  “He has red hair almost the color of yours, and my stubborn character. He’s a true Stark.”

 

Sansa shouldn’t have been surprised.  Robb and Jeyne were newly married when they set sail for Sothoryos.  It made sense that after two years they would have children, but still it seemed as if everything had changed in an instant.  She had left one world and returned to a new one. She was happy for Robb, but the feeling was bittersweet since she could not tell him of her own marriage, her own happiness, or of the child she carried.

 

“Joff has been asking about you.  I suppose the two of you will marry soon, now that we have you back.”

 

Robb’s smile had disappeared, although his tone was still optimistic.  Was it Sansa’s imagination or was he studying her face for a reaction, his statement was more of a question than an assertion of fact?

 

Sansa hesitated.  She knew she could not be fully honest with her brother, but she could not pretend that her relationship with Joffrey hadn’t changed.  After all, it had been years.

 

“Robb, I know that you and Joffrey are friends, but I must be truthful,”  she began, wondering how she should unveil the truth, or at least as much as she could offer.  “Were you aware that Joffrey never wrote me once since he left for Sothoryos?”

 

Robb shifted in his seat, straightening his back as if suddenly uncomfortable.

 

“You know Joff, he isn’t one for writing letters.  He did worry about you when you went missing. I know he cares for you.”

 

“Does he?”  Sansa frowned.  “It doesn’t seem so.  I know that I don’t love him, maybe I never truly did.”

 

“Love can grow, given time,” Robb replied, hopefully.  “I’m sure Father wouldn’t have arranged your marriage if he didn’t think it was for the best.”

 

Sansa experienced a prickle of irritation, his words rubbing her like sandpaper.

 

“As I remember, Father did not approve of your marrying Jeyne at first,” she snapped, maybe a little too quickly.  “But you did anyway, because you were in love.”

 

Robb cleared his throat.  Her words had struck the target.

 

“Yes, that’s true.  But, it’s different for you.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious,” he answered sincerely, unaware of Sansa’s rising sense of frustration.  “You’re a woman. Father wants to make a good match for you, one to a prosperous husband.”

 

“What do you think?  Do you think Joffrey is the best man for me?  Not for our family interests, but for me?”

 

Rob seemed surprised by the question, looking around the cabin as if trying to find a way to escape.  He finally fixed his eyes on the hard tack that remained uneaten on the table.

 

“Do you mind?  I haven’t eaten yet this morning.”

 

Deflecting Sansa’s question he got to his feet and took a bite of crusty biscuit.  Sansa took the opportunity to press him further.

 

“What if there were another prosperous suitor available?  One who loved me, and whom I loved in return?”

 

Robb appeared confused, chewing slowly as if in deep contemplation.  He swallowed then blinked several times before frowning. Discarding the biscuit, his eyes found Sansa again, his suspicious gaze alerting her that she had said too much.  

 

“Is there such a man?  Because I can’t imagine that you could have met many  _ other _ suitors while you’ve been lost on an uncharted island.”

 

Her heart began to race as she averted her eyes.  He must have guessed who she was talking about! It was obvious.  Why hadn’t she listened to her mother and been more careful? Why did she have to press the issue to make her point?  Of course Robb would not be on her side, he never went against their father’s wishes, plus he was Joff’s friend.

 

Before she was compelled to answer, Catelyn returned, entering the cabin then smiling when she saw Robb.  Noticing the serious expressions on the faces of her children, her smile vanished.

 

“What is it?  You two weren’t having an argument were you?”

 

Turning quickly, Robb answered, though to Sansa his response seemed forced.

 

“No. Of course not, Mother.  I came to see how Sansa was feeling.  I’m concerned about her, that is all.”

 

Sansa held her breath.  Robb didn’t know the truth, but if he had guessed that she had been talking about Stannis, apparently he was going to keep that information to himself, but for how long?  Would he guess that she had already confided in Catelyn? Would he say anything to Joffrey? Or Ned?

 

“I must leave now,” he announced, much to Sansa’s relief.  “I have duties to attend. Good day, Mother.” He nodded politely to Catelyn, who continued to study their faces as if trying to ferret out what was really going on.

 

“Sansa,” he nodded to her.  “I’m happy to see that you are well.”

 

When he was gone, Sansa relaxed until Catelyn confronted her.

 

“You didn’t tell him did you?”

 

“No, of course not,” she replied defensively, unwilling to say more until she knew what Robb was going to do.  “Will you take me to Stannis now?”

 

Catelyn stared at her for a few moments, convincing herself that Sansa was telling the truth, or at least until she was satisfied that Sansa wasn’t going to say anything more.

 

“Yes.  Now is a good time.  The Maester is attending to the men who were injured fighting the pirates.  Stannis will be alone. Let’s hurry.”

 

Sansa did not have to be told twice, she quickly threw off her dressing gown and allowed Catelyn to help her don her most comfortable dress, a simple frock with no complicated ties.  She didn’t even bother with her hair before following Catelyn as she led the way down the corridor toward the officers quarters.

 

When they reached the cabin given to Stannis, Catelyn knocked softly to make sure the Maester was indeed gone before opening the door.  Sansa impatiently pushed past her, nearly frantic to see her husband who had been kept away from her for what seemed like weeks rather than a day.  Like other officer’s quarters, the room contained a single portal, which allowed light to stream in. There was no lantern or candle by the bedside, but Sansa could see how pale Stannis looked in the dappled morning light.  His eyes were closed, and although he was sleeping, his breathing seemed too shallow for a man who was recovering. Sansa rushed to his side, stroking his face gently before taking his hand in both of hers and squeezing. Someone had removed his worn clothing and dressed him in a comfortable dressing gown of white cotton.  His hair and beard had been neatly trimmed, and his skin smelled of lanolin soap and herbs.

 

“Stannis, darling, I’m here.  I’m finally here,” she whispered.  “Mother, I thought you said he was better.  He seems worse to me!”

 

“He was, last I saw him,” Catelyn responded, moving to Stannis’ side and beginning a quick examination of her own.  

 

She lifted the arm that Sansa held, and frowned as the sleeve of his dressing gown rode down revealing a multitude of dark red and purple marks on his skin.  

 

Sansa gasped.  “What caused those?”

 

“Leeches.  Pycelle has been bleeding him.”  Catelyn’s expression was grim.

 

Sansa’s eyes widened in alarm.  “But you’ve told me that leeching is wrong!  Stannis was improving. Why would a Maester do this to him?”

 

“I’m not a Maester,” Catelyn snapped.  “I can’t say that leeching is wrong for all patients, but I believe that science has disproved the practice ─ at least according to the practitioners I’ve spoken with.  In my experience, it does more harm than good.”

 

“You must make him stop then, you must speak with Maester Pycelle!”  Sansa demanded, terrified at the thought of such an awful treatment being used on her beloved.

 

“Sansa, if you want me to treat you as a woman grown, you’ll need to act like one.  You know as well as I that a Maester, especially one as old as Pycelle, will never listen to advice from a midwife, or any woman for that matter.  What would you have me do?”

 

Sansa was taken aback by Catelyn’s stern tone and her seeming lack of sympathy.  This was unlike the mother she knew. She was used to Catelyn comforting her. But then it hit her, Catelyn was right.  She wasn’t a child anymore. Ever since she’d returned to the ship and the arms of her mother, she’d begun acting as she had as a child, letting her mother take care of her.  On the island she had asserted her independence, she had become a woman who knew and trusted her own mind, who could make her own decisions. She mustn’t ask Catelyn to do anything she wasn’t prepared to do herself.  She took a deep, calming breath and tried to think of the best way forward.

 

“We must speak to Robert and make him understand.  He is the only one who can stand up to Pycelle.”

 

“How do you propose to do that without telling him why you are so interested in Stannis’ treatment?”

 

Sansa had no answer for that.  She couldn’t tell him about the marriage, not yet.  She was at a loss.

 

“I’m going to sit with Stannis.  I want to be here in case he wakes.”  Sansa studied his face, willing him to move, to open his eyes, to do something, but he remained still.

 

Catelyn sighed, but nodded her approval.  “Don’t be too long. You’ll be expected to dine with us tonight at the Captain’s table.  The men should be back before sundown.”

 

Sansa’s stomach fell as if she ship had just rolled.  She hadn’t considered the fact that they would all be together later that evening.

 

“Will Joffrey be there?”

 

“I expect so,” Catelyn answered.  “You have to face him sometime.”

 

Sansa swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.  

 

“I suppose I do.  Perhaps it would be the best time to announce my marriage to Stannis, while everyone is present.”

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Catelyn cautioned.  “Joffrey may feel insulted if you tell him in front of the other men.  You don’t know how he’ll react. Besides, I thought we were waiting for Stannis to recover first.”

 

Sansa wanted to cry, but she fought back the tears, wanting to be strong for Stannis. She didn’t have any answers.  It had been so much simpler on the island!

 

“I don’t know.  I need to think, but right now I just want to be here with Stannis.  I do know that I’m not going to let that man, Pycelle, come near him again!”

 

“You’re going to ruffle a lot of feathers I can see,” Catelyn sniffed, but Sansa thought she detected a gleam of pride in her eye.  “You’d better come up with a plan then. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll go to the galley and see if the cook has any broth. It’ll do Stannis good.”

 

Sansa brushed Stannis’ damp hair from his forehead, then bent to kiss his cheek, staring at him with all the love in her heart, willing him to get better.  Thinking that her mother had left, she turned her head to find that she was standing in the doorway watching her. Sansa looked at her questioningly until at last she spoke.

 

“I pray to the Seven that man loves you as much as you love him, or he’ll answer to me.”  

 

Catelyn’s tone was firm, but Sansa could see on her face that she finally understood at last how much Stannis meant to her.  Not waiting for a reply, in a moment she was gone, leaving Sansa alone with Stannis.

 

“He does, Mother,” she whispered aloud to herself, hoping that somehow Stannis could hear and was comforted by her presence.  “He does.”

 


	19. Darkness on the Horizon

 

Sansa entered the Captain’s quarters with Catelyn to find Ned and Robert already present.  They were enjoying glasses of rum with the Captain, former Mate, Justin Massey, who had been temporarily appointed to the position in Stannis’ stead. Officially, his commission was granted by the King, but in reality Robert’s raven informing His Majesty of the matter was a mere technicality.  Sansa’s immediate thought was that Massey was the perfect choice, competent, but not one to assert his own authority over that of his wealthy and powerful patron. This far from King’s Landing everyone knew who was in charge of the Fury, and it wasn’t the Captain, or the King.

 

The men curtailed their cordial banter and immediately stood when the ladies entered, Ned and Massey offering them seats.  Sansa was seated next to Ned, but her attention was fixed on the empty chair to her left. Knowing for whom it was reserved, she felt the familiar tingle of apprehension in her center.  What would she say to Joffrey after all this time, and all that had transpired? Whatever she said, she must take care not to let her distaste for him show on her face. Catelyn was right, if Joffrey felt slighted in front of the others, he might react badly and make it worse for herself and Stannis.

 

“Lady Stark, welcome back to the Fury,” Captain Massey said, flashing a handsome smile composed of perfect white teeth.  “You are feeling better I trust?”

 

“Much,” Sansa replied, trying to appear relaxed despite her nerves.  “It is lovely to be in the midst of family and friends, and to have all of the modern conveniences available once more.”

 

“I don’t doubt the truth of that.”  A familiar voice from behind her joined the conversation, sending a cool chill down her spine.

 

All eyes turned to the door as Joffrey Baratheon entered, followed by Robb Stark.  Sansa was surprised that Joffrey looked so much older, even though it was to be expected.  His tan skin, while lighter than Stannis’, was a stark contrast to his sun-bleached, blonde hair.  He was clean shaven, and his clothes, made of the finest silk, spoke of his wealth. He moved to stand beside Sansa’s chair and took her hand, placing a possessive kiss on the back, which was a little too sharp for her comfort.  Despite the show of affection, she could detect no warmth in his eyes.  

 

“We found your camp today, up on the mountain.  It was primitive to say the least,” he continued, sitting in the empty chair at her side.  “It appeared as if it was constructed by a pack of wild monkeys.”

 

“Stannis built that without benefit of tools, save for his knife,” she replied defensively, immediately annoyed by his tone.  She’d forgotten how rude he could be. “It was an amazing accomplishment. We were quite comfortable there, even throughout the rainy season.”

 

“I had it burned.”  Joffery’s quick, emotionless admission tore through Sansa’s heart like a dagger.  “To make certain no pirates or other criminals find refuge there, of course.”

 

She hadn’t realized how emotionally attached she’d been to their island home until it was gone.  There was no real reason to burn the camp, except to destroy something she loved just to spite her.  She recognized the senseless violence in Joffrey now. How could she not have seen it before, or had he simply grown worse?  Was he angry that she hadn’t been to see him yet, or was he simply jealous that she’d been alone with Stannis for so many moons?  Maybe he’d guessed the truth, or maybe Robb had shared his own suspicions. Whatever the motive, the damage was done. She longed for Stannis to hold her, for only he would understand.  Instead, she kept her face a mask, not wanting to give Joffrey the satisfaction of seeing her pain.

 

“I thought the camp was cleverly done.” 

 

Robb, who had seated himself next to Catelyn, spoke up in Sansa’s defense.  

 

“I am amazed that the two of you managed to survive in such a remote place this long.”

 

Sansa studied his face, but could detect no sign that he’d made anything of their earlier conversation, or if he’d discussed it with Joffrey.  

 

“I owe my life to Stannis.”  Sansa glanced at Joffrey, wondering how everyone would react if she were to announce her marriage right now. In some ways it would be a relief to have everything out in the open. Her eyes drifted toward Catelyn, whose arched eyebrow warned her to hold her tongue.  She decided to do so for the moment. “We named the island, Hope, because we never gave up hope of rescue, and now here we are.”

 

Joffrey let out a derisive snort of laughter, but it was Robert who bellowed the loudest, much to Sansa’s delight.

 

“Perfect!” Robert declared, gulping the last of his rum and setting his glass on the table a little too hard.  His face was red as his merry laughter filled their ears. Sansa doubted that it was his first drink of the evening.  “My guess is that name came from you and not from Stannis. He’s too much of a sourpuss. Hope Island it shall be named!  Maybe we can settle another outpost there. This region is ripe for commerce. What do you think Ned?”

 

Ned laughed along with his friend and employer, used to humoring him as Sansa well knew.

 

“Maybe someday, but I think we should return to Sothoryos first.  Besides, we have a wedding to attend.” He nodded pointedly at Joffrey and Sansa, then raised his glass.  “I propose a toast to the happy couple, reunited at last."

 

Robert turned toward Ned, holding out his empty glass.  “Wait, I need a refill!”

 

Sansa stood, clutching her cloth napkin tightly in her hands, the stress of keeping up the pretense of marrying Joffrey was making her feel nauseous again.  It was bad enough to pretend she was still going to marry him, but making a toast was too much. Coming to dine tonight had been a bad idea. She should have stayed with Stannis.

 

“I’m sorry but I’m still feeling a bit under the weather.  I think I’ll go lie down. Please excuse me,” she announced as all eyes stared at her.

 

“I’ll go with you,” Catelyn offered, standing along with Sansa, as all the men rose in response.

 

“No, I’ll be fine.  Please, everyone, sit and enjoy your meal,”  Sansa firmly insisted, returning her unused napkin to the table and rushing from the room before anyone could object.

 

Sansa stopped when she reached the passageway to the officer’s quarters, making certain she wasn’t followed.  She knew she could not return to her cabin without first checking on Stannis, the main reason for her hasty departure.  She had left him sleeping in the late afternoon, thinking that his color was improving. She intended to make her visit quick, but when she arrived at his cabin door she pulled up abruptly, startled to find a strange, exotic looking man leaning against it.  Even in the dim corridor, illuminated only by lantern-light, she could see that he had long blue hair pulled back into a ponytail, and an odd, three-pronged beard. His clothes were even flashier than Joffrey’s, and his numerous gold chains and hoop earring gleamed from the shadows.

 

“Who are you?” Sansa asked, apprehensively. 

 

The man straightened, and crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his impressive muscles in a posture of authority.

 

“I am Daario Naharis, leader of the Stormcrows.”  Naharis’ gaze wandered over her womanly curves and lingered on her cleavage as if appraising a prized cow at market.  “Who is the beauty that I have the pleasure of addressing?”

 

“My name is Sansa Stark.  I’m here to see Stannis Baratheon, now let me pass.”

 

To her dismay, and irritation, the man failed to move.

 

“I have been requested to stand guard by Lord Joffrey Baratheon.  No one shall enter without his consent, but you might help me pass the time.”

 

Sansa was momentarily at a loss, alarmed by this unforeseen development.  Was Joffrey really trying to keep her away from Stannis? Flustered, but desperate, she attempted to use her charms to gain entry.  She tilted her head and offered an alluring smile.

 

“It pleases me that such a capable man has been entrusted with Captain Baratheon’s safety, but as you can see, I’m harmless enough.  I assure you i’m not concealing any weapons.”

 

She lifted her skirt a few inches to reveal her bare calf to Naharis’s interested eyes.

 

“I’ve been given my orders, and I will follow them,” he insisted, his eyes returning to her breasts.  “I would be delighted to meet you for a drink and a stroll on the deck when my watch is over.”

 

“I don’t think Lord Joffrey would like that.  I fear that you don’t know that we are engaged to be married,” Sansa snapped, frustrated by his refusal and his forward manner.  Perhaps she could use her engagement to her advantage.

 

“Oh, I am aware,” Naharis snickered.  “He doesn’t have to know. I’m a much better lover than your intended, I promise you.”

 

“I must check on Stannis,” Sansa insisted, ignoring Naharis’s crass comment.  She raised her chin and lied as convincingly as she could. “Maester Pycelle sent me to inquire about his health.”

 

Naharis laughed loudly, making Sansa’s cheeks redden with anger.

 

“Then he must have changed his mind because he’s inside now.”

 

Sansa’s vision blurred for a moment, rage and fear warred in her head, causing her temples to pound.  It was bad enough that his insufferable man was preventing her from being with Stannis, but to learn that he was alone with the very man who would cause him the most harm was too much for her to bear!

 

“Let me pass!” She shouted, her eyes blazing as she attempted to shove him out of the way.  “I will see him now!”

 

Naharis was like a brick wall, impenetrable to her feeble attempts to move him.

 

“NO one goes in!” He snarled, his expression half-amusement, half-annoyance.  “Especially not you.”

 

“Ahhhhhhh!” Sansa cried in frustration, ineffectively pushing against him once more as Naharis grabbed her shoulders roughly, causing her to wince in pain.

 

“Here, here!  What goes on?” 

 

Sansa was startled by the sudden appearance of Robert at her side.  Seeing him, the Stormcrow immediately took his hands from Sansa and stood at attention.

 

“I came out to take a piss and find all this commotion!” Robert complained, his face still red from drink.

 

“I was given orders not to allow anyone in,” Narahis explained.  “The lady wouldn’t leave.”

 

“Uncle Robert,” Sansa began, employing her best little girl pout, for she recognized that convincing Robert was her only hope.  “I was so worried about Stannis. I couldn’t possibly rest until I see that he’s recovering. Please, please, come in with me, just for a moment.”

 

Robert looked at Naharis with undisguised impatience.

 

“Bloody hell, man!  Of course Lady Sansa has permission to enter!  He saved her life. Now move out of the way before I have you chained in the hold with the other vermin.”

 

“My Lord,” the sellsword obeyed, moving aside, but the scowl on his face said he wasn’t happy about it.  

 

Sansa knew Joffrey would get an earful from his hired guard dog, but she couldn’t worry about that when Stannis’ life was at stake.  She rushed into the cabin followed by Robert, just in time to see white-haired, Pycelle, hovering over Stannis with a jar full of dark leeches swimming in brine.

 

“Stop!” Sansa ordered, surprising the old man so much that he nearly spilled the entire jar on his patient.  

 

“What is the meaning of this interruption?” Pycelle snarled, steadying himself and turning to face the intruders, even as Sansa circumvented his person to kneel at Stannis’ bedside.  “I’m with a patient.” He frowned at Sansa, whose gaze was fixed upon Stannis’ face, assessing his condition as she held his hand. “Why is she here, Lord Robert?”

 

Robert closed the door, shutting out the watchful gaze of Naharis.

 

“This is the poor girl who was stranded with him.  She wanted to see how he was doing.” He looked from Sansa to Pycelle, his expression revealing that he was now being made to feel foolish for allowing her to enter.  He sighed in exasperation and addressed Sansa. “As you can see he’s in good hands, perhaps we should be going.”

 

Stannis uttered a load groan and moved his legs beneath the thin sheet that covered them, causing everyone to stare at him expectantly.

 

“I think he’s waking up,” Sansa gasped, her heart soaring with hope.  “Stannis dearest, it’s Sansa. I’m with you now, so is Robert. Everything is all right.  We’ve been rescued, we’re aboard the Fury.”

 

Stannis groaned again, mumbling something incoherent.  His eyes began to flicker, as if he wanted to open them.

 

“I insist that you give way and allow me to finish his treatment,” Pycelle grumbled, ignoring Stannis’ increasing signs of consciousness.

 

“Uncle Robert,” Sansa looked to Stannis’ older brother with pleading eyes, wondering if she could count on him to assist her once more.  “I’ve discussed it with Mother, and she agrees that leeching may not be the best treatment for Stannis. He seemed to be improving before Maester Pycelle bled him this morning, and afterwards seemed worse.”

 

“Not the best treatment?” Pycelle blustered, puffing himself up like a blowfish.  “Who are these _women_ to question a Maester?”

 

“Catelyn Stark, er, she’s a midwife,” Robert stammered, clearly not wishing to argue with a medical man, or with Sansa.  “Sansa, the Maester trained at the Citadel, I’m sure he knows best. Now, let us take our leave.”

 

Sansa looked at Stannis in desperation.  She could throw herself on him and refuse to move until she was dragged away, but then she would surely be confined to her quarters and Stannis would be defenseless. There was only one way left to convince Robert.  If only she could get Stannis to wake up!

 

“Stannis, can you hear me?” she pleaded softly.  “Stannis, you’ve been very ill but you’re getting better.  Maester Pycelle is here and he thinks you need leeching. Do you want him to put leeches on you?  You must tell him your wishes. Stannis, please!”

 

Sansa was gambling that Stannis had his wits about him enough to know that leeching was harmful.  It was her only chance to save him. She tapped him gently on the face as he struggled again to open his eyes.  Suddenly she felt Robert’s hands on her shoulders.

 

“Come on girl, you’re just upsetting him. Let’s be off.”

 

She let him bring her to her feet, nearly sick with worry.  She gazed at Pycelle, who still held the jar of leeches, a smug expression on his face.  She could easily knock it out of his hand. Spilling the contents would spare Stannis for a few more minutes, but not longer, as the creatures could be collected again without much effort.  Still, a few minutes was better than nothing. She shook off Robert’s grasp and was about to strike the container, when she heard a gasp from the bed.

 

“Sansa?”

 

Sansa whirled and was immediately on her knees again, hovering over Stannis.

 

“Yes, Stannis.  I’m here.”

 

“Where…?”

 

“We’re on the Fury.  Robert rescued us. We’re safe.”  


Stannis’ eyes opened, and he looked around the room, but he was having difficulty focusing his gaze.

 

“Robert?”

 

“I’m here.  You had us all worried.  You always were overly dramatic,” Robert chuckled, moving closer, his eyes softening with obvious relief.

 

“Stannis, do you wish for Maester Pycelle to treat you with leeches?  You must answer,” Sansa begged, frightened that he would lose consciousness before stating his refusal.

 

“Leeches?”  He whispered, closing his eyes again to Sansa’s dismay.  She thought he was out when he took a deep breath and released it with a shallow cough.  “No..no leeches.”

 

Sansa exhaled, dizzy as the tension drained from her body.  She closed her eyes and squeezed Stannis’ hand. The effort of speaking seemed to have sapped the last of his strength, and he drifted off, but this time Sansa knew that he would be all right.

 

“Well, there you have it!”  Robert, turned to Pycelle and laughed out loud, clearly elated that Stannis was not only doing better, but had gotten him off the hook with Sansa and the Maester.  “You can’t argue with my brother, so you may as well give up. Let’s all leave him to rest. Besides, I really have to piss!”  

 

Robert was herding a grumbling Pycelle out the door, but Sansa remained where she was.

 

“Just give me a few more minutes with him, to make sure he doesn’t wake up and find everyone gone.  Please?”  

 

She smiled hopefully at Robert, confident that the combination of nature’s call and his not wanting to argue with her again would win the day.  It did.

 

“I don’t know what Stannis did on that island that made you so fond of him.  Most people can’t wait to get away from him!” Robert snorted. “Don’t stay too long.  You need rest too, remember?”

 

Sansa was about to thank him, but he had already shut the door.  She turned back to Stannis, smiling wider than she had in days, nearly giddy with happiness and relief.

 

“If he only knew,” she whispered, even though Stannis was sleeping soundly and couldn’t hear.  Sansa giggled to herself, Robert’s remark reminding her of things Stannis had done on the island that had made her fond of him that would be best kept private.  She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his regular breathing a welcome sign of his recovery. “Soon, everyone will know ─ about our marriage at least.”  

 

 She straightened the bedcovers around Stannis, that he had managed to throw off in his semi-conscious state, then leaned in to give him a brief hug, followed by a kiss on the cheek.  She missed the intimacy they’d shared for so many nights it had become routine. She was so focused on making Stannis comfortable that she failed to hear the door open. She jumped, twisting around when an unexpected voice addressed her.

 

“I knew I’d find you here with him.”

 

Joffrey’s tone was cold, but danger flickered in his eyes.

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sansa forced herself to remain calm on the outside, not wishing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he frightened her.  “I came to see how Stannis was doing. I care a great deal about him.”  

 

She wondered if now was the time to tell Joffrey that their engagement was over.  She doubted he’d feel anything, except for the resentment that her rejection of him might produce.  Joffrey did not give her time to bring up the subject.

 

“I think it is much more than that,” he sneered.  “I’ve heard that you’ve barely left his side since you were brought aboard.  My uncle is known for being quite disagreeable, and any woman forced to spend months in his company would be expected to rejoice at the first opportunity to part ways.  Unless something happened that she did not wished to disclose...” His voice trailed off letting the accusation hang suggestively in the humid air.

 

“You are misinformed,” Sansa snapped.  “On all accounts. Now, if you will be good enough to excuse yourself, Stannis needs his rest.”

 

“It was quite odd when we found your camp and there was only the single bed,” he continued, ignoring Sansa’s request.  “Robb was too stupid to notice, but I realized right away what it meant. Isn’t it time you stopped lying about what really happened between you and Uncle Stannis?”

 

“Stannis and I became quite close,”  Sansa admitted, steeling herself before plunging ahead with the truth.  She was tired of making up excuses. It was time to show her hand and hope for the best.  “In fact, we decided to marry. He is my husband. I’m sorry to tell you this way, but I think you will agree that you and I are not suited for one another.”

 

Ready for an argument, she was confused when Joffrey burst into laughter, which was anything but merry.  The sound of it chilled her. When he finished, the look of utter contempt on his face shook her.

 

“I must give my uncle credit, I wouldn’t have thought him capable of inventing such a convincing lie in order to have it off with the virginal castaway.  Though, it seems so unnecessary. I should think it would have been more fun to simply take what he wanted.”

 

“Stannis doesn’t lie. We are married, believe it or don’t, it is of no concern of mine,” Sansa growled, her anger rising to match her anxiety.   Of course Joffrey would have forced her. There would have been no tender wedding night if they would have married, she knew that now. Thankfully, Stannis had rescued her in more ways than one.  “I want you to leave now. I’ve told you before, Stannis needs his rest, and so do I. As for our broken engagement, there is nothing more to say on the matter.”

 

“Oh, but there is more to say, much more,” he replied.  “As I see it, you owe me. Stannis took your virginity, which was rightfully mine.  He ruined you for marriage ─ so there we are in agreement ─ but since you’ve been playing the whore with my uncle all these months, I reckon you can be _my_ whore on the homeward voyage.  There aren’t nearly enough women aboard ship to keep me from getting bored.”

 

“Ser you offend me!”  Sansa cried, aghast that he’d made such an offer.  “Get out now, or I’ll tell Father what you’ve said!”

 

“I think not,” Joffrey shot back, no hint of emotion present.  “You’d have to tell him about your sham of a marriage and how you’ve acted the slut all these months.  Stannis’ career and reputation will be ruined. I’ll make certain of it. He’ll lose his Captain’s commission.”

 

It was Sansa’s turn to laugh bitterly.  “You can threaten all you want. You have no authority to do any of what you suggest.  Robert wouldn’t allow it. Besides, I’m going to tell Father about my marriage. Stannis is a fine man and Father will see that he is a good match for me.”  

 

Joffrey was silent a moment, and Sansa thought she had won her point, but his next threat frightened her more than anything he’d said so far.  

 

“Be that as it may, your lover is indisposed, and for who knows how long.  It would be tragic if he took a turn for the worse.”

 

“He’s recovering,” Sansa argued, chilled by what Joffrey was hinting at.  “You’d better forget about hurting either of us! You’ll answer to Stannis before this voyage is over!”

 

“He seems better, I’m sure, but he’s still very weak.  Pycelle is so old and forgetful. It would be easy for him to give Uncle the wrong potion, or worse yet, what if one of the pirates were to escape and slit his throat?  A sea voyage is a dangerous place for an invalid.”

 

Sansa knew that this threat was far more easily implemented than the last.  Joffrey was right, he had Pycelle and the Stormcrows at his disposal. She had no doubt he could harm Stannis if he wished.  What was she to do? She couldn’t let this awful man harm Stannis, but she couldn’t consent to having sexual relations with him either.  Telling Ned the truth would save her from being assaulted by Joffrey, but what about Stannis? How could she guarantee his safety? Her thoughts swirled around in a tangle with no answers.

 

The muffled sound of voices interrupted them.  Someone was speaking to Naharis outside the door.

 

“Think carefully about what I’ve said,” Joffrey instructed, turning to take his leave.  “I’ll expect you in my cabin tomorrow night. Hopefully you’ve learned a thing or two about satisfying a man, but if not, I’ll be happy to teach you a few lessons.”

 

Sansa’s eyes followed him as he left the cabin.  She suddenly felt the strength flow from her limbs as if she’d been the one bled by leeches.  She had felt joy at Stannis’ recovery, then anger at Joffrey’s sickening proposition, and now she felt numb with indecision.  

 

Stannis murmured in his sleep and she turned to pull him close.  Not caring about the consequences of her actions, she crawled into the bunk beside him, nestling her head against his shoulder for comfort, and relishing the warmth of his body. She closed her eyes to block out the terrible sense of foreboding that Joffrey had awakened within her, while in his untroubled sleep, Stannis unconsciously moulded his body against hers.  There would be shocked reactions and furious gossip if she were discovered in his bed, but she couldn’t leave him, not now.

 


	20. Allies and Enemies

 

Stannis emerged from the dense fog of sleep suddenly, as if shaken by an unseen hand.  His first thought was of Sansa. He had dreamed they were at the beach, relaxing together in a hammock strung between two shady palms.  Her head was on his shoulder, her soft hair caressing his chest, and her hand rested on his thigh, making him acutely aware that he hadn’t made love to his wife in far too long.  He opened his eyes and the beautiful beach view was replaced by a bare wooden wall, the hammock by a hard, thin mattress. His head hurt, his throat was achingly dry, and Sansa was gone.  Despite the unfamiliar surroundings, Stannis had a strong feeling that Sansa had been in the bed with him. He sat up, and his head swam. He closed his eyes, struggling against the wave of dizziness and tried to think.

 

He could feel the room rocking gently, the rise and fall of water beneath him.  He was aboard the Fury. Robert had come for them. Somehow he knew that. Sansa had told him, but he couldn’t remember when or how.  _Where is she?_   _What about the bloody pirates?_ He remembered being in the cave, and then brief snippets of clarity.  Something about leeches? He rubbed his arm at the unsettling memory.  

 

The dizziness passed and worry took its place.  Sansa wouldn’t leave him, unless she had a good reason, or she hadn’t a choice.  He took a deep breath and let it out. His head cleared a bit and he swung his legs to the side and attempted to stand.  His strength failed him, his legs trembled, and he sank back onto the bed with a groan. He leaned forward, hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths.  He heard the voices of men as they worked above, and the creaking of the timbers along with the familiar movement of the ship. The Fury was no longer anchored, they had put to sea.

 

“Hello?”  He called, his voice embarrassingly hoarse from lack of use.  He cleared his throat and tried again, raising the volume, needing some answers as well as some assistance.  “Who goes there? Anyone?”

 

He was surprised when the door was opened, not by a crewman, but a tall, flamboyantly dressed man with blue hair.  His arms were heavily tattooed and he had an air of danger about him, almost as if he were a pirate. Surely Bolton’s pirates hadn’t taken the ship!  Instead of answers, the presence of this man produced more questions.

 

“Who are you?” Stannis snapped, unnerved by the man’s appearance and arrogant swagger.

 

“Daario Naharis, leader of the Stormcrows and loyal servant of Lord Baratheon.”

 

“Stormcrows?  A sellsword! Aboard the Fury?”  

 

Stannis had no idea what was happening aboard his ship, but he didn’t like it.  Of course problems were always to be expected when Robert was in charge of anything.  This was entirely his doing no doubt.

 

“I work for money, yes,” Naharis sneered.  “Don’t we all?”

 

“Who is the Captain?  Where is Robert? Where is the Lady Sansa?”

 

To Stannis’ astonishment, Naharis laughed out loud.

 

“So many questions for an invalid.  If it were I, waking from a long sleep, I would demand a bottle of rum and a willing serving girl, but to each his own.”

 

“Answer my questions, Ser, or I’ll report your insolence!” Stannis ordered, losing his temper.

 

“It isn’t my duty to follow the movements of everyone aboard ship. Although, for the lovely fire-haired lady with the shapely bosoms, I would make an exception.  I believe I saw her headed for the deck,” he smirked.

 

“What _is_ your duty, I wonder?” Stannis growled, angered even more by the way the man spoke of Sansa.  If only he could get out of his bed, he would make this man pay for his disrespect!

 

“My duty is to guard your door, and so I have.  I’m certain that someone will be along to check on you soon.  Good day.”

 

With that, to Stannis’ stunned disbelief, he walked out, shutting the door behind him.  It seemed that this audacious being had no idea to whom he was speaking, or didn’t care if he did.  Stannis was outraged that he would have to wait until someone came to check on him, or he was strong enough to walk on his own.  When he next saw Robert, he would have Naharis relieved of any further _duties_ , and discharged when they reached Sothoyros, assuming that was where they were headed.

 

“Hello?!  Anyone?!” Stannis shouted at the top of his lungs.  “There must be someone within shouting distance on this bloody ship!”

 

Fighting the urge to give up and go back to sleep, he sat up straight and vigorously rubbed his thighs, trying to restore some circulation to his neglected muscles. The urgency to find Sansa forced him to remain focused. He was contemplating attempting to stand again, when the door was flung open and he was greeted by the ruddy, grinning face of his brother.

 

“At last you decided to get up!  Why are you shouting loud enough to wake the dead?”

 

“You might have left someone outside who has an ounce of intelligence and integrity, instead of that insolent sellsword!”  

 

Stannis attempted a smile that was more of a grimace, but despite his ill mood he was pleased to be reunited with this brother.  They had been at odds too many times to count, but they were blood kin after all, and he hadn’t seen him in far too long.

 

“There isn’t a man on this ship who could live up to your standards, brother.”  Robert clapped him on the shoulder a bit too hard. “It’s good to see you vertical again. We were a bit worried.”

 

“What happened to the pirates ─ or have you employed them as well?”

 

“The Stranger took most of them, including Bolton, to rot in the Seven Hells,” Robert snorted.  “The rest are down in the hold in irons.”

 

“I assume you brought the Stormcrows along for the entertainment?”

 

Robert shook his head in frustration.  

 

“Could you give me a little credit, just once?  After the Fury made it back to port, many of the crew were injured or refused to sail again.  There were pirates reported in the area and I needed the men. Turns out they came in handy!”

 

He raised his eyebrows, and stared at Stannis as if waiting for a sign of approval, but Stannis merely sniffed in reluctant acceptance of his explanation.  He’d had enough of the details of their rescue, now he asked what he really wanted to know.

 

“Where is Sansa?  I’m certain she was here earlier.  I need to see her.”

 

“She was.  Poor girl was worried sick about you, you lucky bastard.  I believe she’s on deck taking some air.”

 

Stannis nodded, relieved. 

 

“Catelyn has been looking after her.  Ned will be glad to hear you’ve come around, he wants to thank you personally for taking care of his little girl,”  Robert continued.

 

Stannis stayed quiet, not sure of how Robert and the others had taken the news of he and Sansa’s marriage, though he certainly didn’t seem upset.

 

Robert hesitated, staring at the floor as if something was weighing on his mind.  When he spoke his voice was soft, without the usual hint of a jest.

 

“I wanted to thank you too.  Sansa means a great deal to Joffrey.  Marrying her will be the best thing for him.  I think it will turn him around for the better.”

 

“Marrying Joffrey?”  

 

Stannis repeated the words dumbly, his chest feeling like a lead weight was pressing against it.  Didn’t Robert know?

 

“Yes, Joffrey is aboard too.  The wedding will take place first thing when we return to Sothoyros.  I know you are aware that he’s been a troubled lad in the past, but Sansa will change all that.  She’s the best thing for him. She’s a fine girl and she’ll make a gentleman out of him.”

 

Stannis’ expression must have been telling, he’d never been any good at hiding his feelings, because Robert’s face reddened and he began to fidget uncomfortably, clearing his throat before he spoke once more.

 

“Look, I’m not a fool, despite what you might think.  The way Sansa was acting ─ and now you─” he cut off abruptly, taking a deep breath as if measuring his words carefully.  “─I don’t blame you if something happened, given the circumstances. A man and a woman alone for all those moons. You’d probably given up hope of rescue.”

 

“Robert, it isn’t what you think─”  Stannis began, intending to set the record straight, but his brother cut him off, holding up a hand in warning.

 

“I don’t want to know, it’s all past now.  Just keep it from Joffrey.”

 

He turned toward the door, as if suddenly impatient to leave.

 

“I can’t stay here and play nursemaid all day, I’m going to send someone to see that you’re fed and watered.  Massey is acting Captain, so you needn’t concern yourself with anything but getting your strength back.”

 

“Massey?”  Stannis croaked, his throat still parched.  

 

He wanted to clear up Robert’s misguided assumptions, but even this short conversation was tiring him.  Before he could think of what he wanted to say, Robert was already standing in the open doorway.

 

“Yes, Massey.  Accept it. Get some rest, and grant me a favor?”  He paused, meeting Stannis’ gaze, his eyes narrowing.  “Stay away from Lady Sansa. It isn’t appropriate, the two of you spending so much time together.”

 

Stannis watched as Robert whispered orders to Naharis, before the door was closed and the two men cut off from his view.  He not only felt weak, but as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs. How was he supposed to stay away from the one person he needed to speak to the most ─ his wife?  He needed to know what had happened to lead Robert and the others to believe that Sansa was still engaged to Joffrey. Moreover, he was horrified at the thought of Sansa being on the ship with Joffrey, interacting with him, and possibly being harmed by him. He was helpless to protect his own wife!  He was incapacitated at the very time she needed him the most.  

 

Stannis had never felt more useless.  He let out a deep sigh and ground his teeth in frustration.  Robert had probably given orders to that Stormcrow to keep Sansa out of his cabin.  He must regain his strength and quickly, then no one could keep them apart. Sansa was depending upon him and he could not let her down.

 

~~~

 

Sansa leaned on the rail and watched the blue waves rise and fall as they rolled under the ship.  The flapping of the sails overhead and the warm sea breeze tugging at her bonnet should have been soothing, but she had too much on her mind to enjoy the voyage.  The sun was high in the sky, but she knew that soon enough it would be setting, and shortly after she would be forced to make a decision, one that would place either herself or her husband in an awful situation.  What should she do? Days ago she’d been willing to die for Stannis, so why would she hesitate now? Joffrey was disgusting but she could just go through the motions and get it over with. The very thought sickened her, even though it would mean protecting Stannis.

 

The problem was that Joffrey couldn’t be trusted to keep his word.  Even if she were to go through with the unthinkable, Stannis would still be in peril.  Besides, she couldn’t betray Stannis like that. She would never be able to tell him for fear he would do something awful to Joffrey and end up in prison or worse.  No, she would not be going to Joffrey’s cabin that night or any other night.

 

“For someone who was just rescued from pirates you look miserable.”

 

Robb Stark stepped to the rail and eased himself beside his sister.

 

“Do you compliment Jeyne in such a manner?  If so, I wonder why she stays with you,” Sansa teased with a smile.  

 

She wasn’t sure why, but his presence lifted her spirits, even though she wasn’t certain of his loyalty.

 

Robb laughed.  “Don’t take offense, you are beautiful as always.  I’m only asking if something is wrong. You seem melancholy.”

 

Sansa sighed.   There was only one way to find out whose side Robb would take if pressed, and that was to ask.

 

“I had an unpleasant conversation with Joffrey,” she began, studying her brother’s reaction closely.

 

Robb frowned, but remained quiet, thoughtfully gazing at the horizon.

 

Frustrated, Sansa tried again.

 

“Why are you friends with him?  The two of you don’t seem to have much in common.”

 

Robb hesitated, shifting his position so that his back was to the rail, folding his arms across his chest.  Clearly, he did not wish to have this discussion, but after glancing around to make sure no one was listening he answered.

 

“When we were boys, growing up I admired him.  Who wouldn’t? He was confident, wealthy, and had the means to do anything he wanted.  I wanted to be like him.”

 

When he paused, Sansa pressed him further.

 

“And now?  Do you still wish to be like him?”

 

Robb’s sideways glance of annoyance answered her question.

 

“It isn’t that simple, as you well know,” he snapped.  “Our family has been beholden to the Baratheons for years.  Neither Father, nor I, would have had the opportunity to gain so much both financially and socially if not for Robert.  Most likely, I would be working on a farm back in Winterfell right now, and you would be a farmer’s wife. Is that life preferable to you?  Joff is Robert’s son, I can’t forget that.”

 

“If I told you that Joffrey had threatened to force me to perform unspeakable acts, or he would murder Stannis, what then?  Could you forget that, for the sake of profit?”  

 

Her voice wavered, but she managed to keep her tears in check as she watched Robb’s expression change from exasperation to shock to anger.

 

“He wouldn’t dare,” Robb growled, turning to face her.  “Stannis is his uncle. He’s bluffing. You know he’s all talk sometimes.”

 

“He wouldn’t do it himself,” Sansa agreed.  “He’s a coward. But, he has the Stormcrows, and the pirates.  He could pay someone, and Robert would need never know it was him.”

 

She could see Robb pondering her words, struggling for an answer.  At last his eyes interrogated hers.

 

“What is Stannis to you?  You hinted at it before, but I want to know.  Did something happen on the island?”

 

Sansa glanced around once more, wary of being overheard.  She moved her head closer to Robb.

 

“Stannis and I fell in love.  We had little hope of being rescued, and so we married ourselves in an unofficial, but no less binding, ceremony.  Others may not see it that way, but Stannis and I are married. Surely, you can see that Stannis is a much better man than Joffrey, even if measured by reputation alone.”

 

To her surprise, Robb didn’t seem at all stunned, or upset by her confession.  She studied his face as he contemplated all she had disclosed.

 

“Stannis Baratheon does have the reputation of being honorable, though many find him a bit difficult, or so I’ve heard.  I do know from experience that we have little control over whom our heart chooses to love.” He treated her to a brief, knowing smile. “But, you are correct when you say your marriage is unofficial.  No one in Westeros would consider it a legal union. Of course, you can always remarry. The problem as I see it, is your engagement to Joff.”

 

Sansa was so happy she wanted to grab her brother and throw her arms around him, but she did not for fear of attracting attention.  At last, someone, a family member no less, understood her dilemma! Robb may not have offered a solution, but it was a great relief that he seemed to be on her side.  Catelyn was also coming around, but that still didn’t help her deal with Joffrey.

 

“I know what the problem is, but what do I do?  I need to speak with Stannis. He was awake yesterday, but there is a guard at the door and they don’t want me to see him.  This morning I had to leave before I was discovered with him again. My fear is that I won’t be allowed further access.”

 

“Stannis is awake, I was with Father when Robert came to tell him.”

 

Sansa’s heart thudded, and a soft cry escaped her lips. If only he had awakened earlier, before she had left.  Instead, Stannis had awakened alone! He must be wondering where she was. The urge to run to him immediately was nearly overwhelming.  She gripped the rail tightly to force herself to remain still and focus on what Robb was saying.

 

“I agree, Stannis is the one who should speak with Father and Robert about your marriage.  Let him deal with Joffrey as well.”

 

Sansa nodded, although she hadn’t decided if she should tell Stannis everything Joffrey had said.  Right now, she just needed to speak with him.

 

“I will help you get past the guard,” Robb said, keeping his voice low.  “The rest is up to Stannis.”

 

“How will you do it?  The leader of the Stormcrows is standing watch at his door,” Sansa gasped, suddenly nervous and barely allowing herself to hope.  “Oh, Robb, thank you!”

 

“We must wait until late this evening, well after dinner, after everyone is in bed and the guard changes.  The nightwatch will be more easily distracted than Naharis.”

 

“What about Joffrey?  I’m supposed to go to his cabin tonight.  If I don’t show up, he’ll surely come looking for me.”

 

“After we get you into Stannis’ cabin, I’ll keep Joffrey busy with a fine bottle of rum, the only thing he enjoys as much as a young lady.  After that you’re on your own. I’ll not confront Joffrey and put Father in an awkward position with Robert unless there is no other way.”

 

Sansa frowned.  Robb was still Robb, never going against Father’s wishes.  Surely Father would take her side if he knew? Only, she wasn’t sure he would understand with his many years of allegiance to Robert.  It hurt her to know that there was a limit to Robb’s loyalty, but then again he was willing to do exactly what she needed most. She couldn’t be angry with him.

 

“I’m grateful for your help.  You have no idea how much it means to me, and to Stannis.”

 

Robb nodded, a bashful smile flittering awkwardly across his lips as if she’d embarrassed him.

 

“I believe I have some idea.”  Then he straightened, his expression hardening.  “You’re my sister, I’m glad I can be of assistance.  Now, we probably shouldn’t be seen together until the evening meal.  I’ll come to collect you at your cabin after the moon has risen.”

 

“I’ll be ready.”  Sansa smiled and as he was turning to leave, impulsively kissed him on the cheek.  

 

Robb offered a formal bow in response before strolling casually toward his quarters in the ship’s stern.  Sansa could hardly contain her excitement, or her anxiety. She wasn’t sure how she would manage to pass the hours until she could be with Stannis.  She was no good at hiding her emotions. She should probably confine herself to her cabin before someone took one look at her and realized something was wrong.  Straightening her bonnet, she smiled demurely at a sailor who tipped his hat to her in passing before escaping down the passageway to the privacy of her small cabin to wait.

 


	21. Rocking the Boat

Sansa paced inside her cabin, impatiently flinging the door open as soon as she heard Robb’s soft knock.  They didn’t speak, but carefully made their way down the dimly lighted corridor toward the officer’s quarters.  The ship was quiet, save for the creaking of the timbers and the sounds of low voices emanating from the few men who were left on duty, or those who couldn’t sleep.  When they reached the final turn before their destination, Robb placed a finger to his lips and motioned for Sansa to wait while he continued on. After an excruciating minute of hiding in the shadows, Sansa heard voices and cautiously peered around the corner.  Robb and the guard, another tattooed Stormcrow, were speaking in hushed whispers. She held her breath in anticipation, her heart pounding so loudly inside her chest she was certain everyone on the ship could hear. Soon her eyes widened in excitement as she watched Robb gesture toward the opposite end of the passageway, and after looking around suspiciously, the guard followed him away from Stannis’ cabin door!  She didn’t hesitate, knowing this was her only chance, and she held her long skirts up so she would not trip as she made a dash for the door.

 

Sansa took one last look around to make sure she wasn’t seen before she opened the cabin door and silently slipped inside.  The light was dim, the room illuminated by a single oil lamp hanging from a hook on the wall, but she was astonished to find Stannis standing near his bunk, leaning on the bedside table for support as he stared out the portal at the moonlit waves.  Her entrance had been so stealthy that he hadn’t heard her come in, and she watched him a moment, tears of joy welling in her eyes, blurring her vision.

 

“Stannis,” she whispered at last, causing him to turn swiftly toward her.  “I’m here.”

 

Stannis stared at her a moment as if not trusting his own eyes, and after what he’d been through Sansa couldn’t blame him.

 

“Sansa?  How─”  

 

Not being able to stay away from him another second, Sansa launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over.  She pressed him against the wall, her fingers moving to his face, tracing the rise of his cheekbones and the length of his jaw before caressing his lips.  It had been an eternity since she’d gazed into his dark blue eyes, and now he gazed back, enveloping her in the warmth of love.

 

“I was so afraid,” she whispered.

 

“You needn’t be,” he answered, brushing the hair from her cheek and lowering his mouth to hers.  “Not anymore.”

 

Sansa kissed him as if they’d been apart for years instead of days.  In some ways it felt like years. His lips calmed her fears and healed her troubled soul better than any medicine.  The stress drained from her body as she pressed the length of herself against him, exploring his firm chest and shoulders with her hands to satisfy herself that he was really present.  Stannis’ hands seemed equally eager to confirm that his wife’s presence wasn’t an hallucination. When he massaged her back and moved lower to cup her buttocks, pulling her flush against his groin, an explosion of heat burst from Sansa’s center and quickly distributed itself between her legs.  A sense of guilt rose along with her inflamed passion. Stannis had only just begun to recover after all, and it was her duty not to overtax him.

 

“I have so much to tell you,” she whispered, between breathless kisses.  She’d thought to give Stannis an excuse to rest if he wasn’t yet up for such strenuous activity, but to her delight Stannis had no interest in talking.

 

“Later,” he murmured against her ear, just before he began to suck on an especially sensitive spot below her earlobe.

 

“Stannis,” she sighed, turning her head to give him better access.  She closed her eyes, surrendering to the desire slipping over her like a luxurious silk chemise.  But, she soon realized that this wasn’t going to be any leisurely seduction. They’d been apart too long and their emotions were too raw, their need for one another demanding immediate satisfaction.

 

Stannis’ fingers tugged impatiently at her skirts, and she helped him lift them, wrapping a bare leg around him as his hand glided from her knee to the underside of her thigh.  Her face reddened from the heat of his kisses and the touch of his large hands roaming over her body, sending her blood surging through her veins like lava.

 

“Too many clothes,” Stannis growled.  His fingers threaded their way through the layers of fabric to the place between her legs, firmly caressing her labia over the intervening barrier of her small clothes, which quickly grew wet with each delicious stroke.

 

Sansa was encountering her own frustrations.  She could feel the solid protrusion of Stannis’ manhood pressing against the inside of her thigh, shielded by the cotton material of his nightgown, but she couldn’t stroke him properly without grabbing a handful of cloth.

 

Desperate for closer skin on skin contact, she meant to move toward the bed and have Stannis remove her clothing, but Stannis had other ideas.  She made a small gasp of surprise when he backed her onto the bedside table, her skirts bunched up to her waist, offering him better access to that which he desired.  If she’d been worried about his weakened condition, it was all for naught now. Passion had given him renewed vigor, and he raised up his own gown, not bothering with removing her small clothes, but deftly moving them aside so he could enter her slick passage in one smooth stroke.

 

At least that’s what it felt like to Sansa as she bit back a moan, a small voice in the back of her head reminding her that she must stay quiet, even as she was overwhelmed by the sudden sensation of being filled by her lover.  Stannis wasn’t staying overly quiet himself, cursing once when he entered her and again as he stilled himself for a moment as if trying to regain some semblance of composure. Sansa wouldn’t allow it, for if she wasn’t able to restrain herself, why should he?  She shifted beneath him, slightly altering the angle to increase her pleasure, and wrapping her legs around his waist, began to rock her hips with purpose.

 

“Go on,” she demanded in a hoarse whisper, “take me now.”

 

If Stannis had managed to reserve a tiny measure of control, after hearing her brazen challenge it was gone.  She was caught in the all consuming gaze of a man possessed. The weathered table creaked rhythmically beneath them as Stannis obeyed her command and thrust into her with abandon.   His hands firmly gripped her ass to keep her in place, as she in turn clutched the flexing muscles of his arms, oblivious to anything save for the delicious friction between her legs as his rigid shaft plunged into her again and again.

 

There was no slow climb to reach her peak, Sansa had been longing for his moment and it sprang upon her suddenly, like a silent predator.  Somehow she managed to keep her cry of ecstasy silent, mouthing what would have been a high pitched cry as the spasms clutched her core.  

 

“Stannis, my love,” she groaned aloud, despite her best intentions, as the black haze of lust obscured her vision and her eyes closed involuntarily.  The delicious tremors began to subside and Sansa’s heightened senses savored every second. She wanted this moment to last forever, joined with Stannis deep inside, filled with his body and his love.

 

On the edge of clarity, she heard Stannis grunt, and felt his muscles tense as he reached the point of release.  Finally spent, relief enveloped her body like submerging into a hot bath, and she sighed contentedly, more relaxed than she’d been in many days.

 

Sansa was forced to confront reality when she became aware that their passionate coupling had sapped most of Stannis’ strength.  As he slowly withdrew from her, she could feel him lean heavily on the table for support. Admittedly, what had been an extremely erotic position a moment ago, was now uncomfortable for her as well, and she was more than ready to move.  Carefully, she and Stannis managed to assist each other to undress, freshen up a bit and crawl into the narrow bed. It was wonderful to snuggle close to her husband encircled in his warm embrace. She would have easily drifted off, but there was much they urgently needed to discuss and so she began the conversation as soon as they were comfortable, before Stannis could fall asleep.

 

“You aren’t worried that the guard will find me here?  I can’t imagine that we were quiet enough that he couldn’t hear us,” she asked, worried that their blissful union might be disturbed.

 

“He won’t enter,” Stannis assured, stifling a contented yawn.  “If he heard anything, he’ll assume I had Robert send in a whore to keep me company.”   
  


“Did you often keep the company of whores when you were Captain of the Fury?”  Sansa snorted in mock seriousness. “I fear that I may not know you as well as I think.”

 

Stannis turned his head quickly, ready to defend himself until he saw her playful smile.

 

“I was merely suggesting that a man such as our Stormcrow would think that way.  He doesn’t have a clue that a lady such as yourself would be bold enough to slip past him.”

 

“Seeing you well again makes it worth the effort,” she whispered, all teasing aside as she gazed lovingly into his eyes.

 

He lowered his head, his mouth inches from hers and was about to kiss her when he stopped, his brow furrowing.

 

“How did you manage it ─ slipping past the guard that way?”

 

“Robb helped me.  I told him about us, our wedding, and about─” 

 

Sansa broke off, realizing that she hadn’t yet decided whether to tell Stannis about her confrontation with Joffrey.

 

“What?”  Stannis frowned and looked at her expectantly.  “Tell me.”

 

She knew that Stannis would be able to tell from her face that she was keeping something from him.  The longer she hesitated the more worried he would get, so she made a quick decision to tell him part of the truth.

 

“Joffrey found our camp on Hope Island.  He burned it.”  

 

Saying it out loud, lying beside Stannis, she couldn’t keep her lip from trembling as her eyes filled with tears.  They’d lost their home, all they’d worked for, their marriage bed. Their beautiful paradise was gone.

 

Stannis looked stunned for a moment, and Sansa could tell he was struggling with his own pain at her announcement.  He pulled himself together quickly though and wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb.

 

“I’m sorry that it happened, but the camp doesn’t matter.  It served us well, but we are no longer on the island. What is most important is that we are together now.  Joffrey can’t hurt you. I won’t allow it.”

 

He kissed her gently, his lips lingering against hers, the soft, familiar brush of his beard against her upper lip soothing her.  Sansa took a deep breath. Being with Stannis did make her feel stronger, but there was so much more to tell him.

 

“Joffrey knows that we are married,” she continued.

 

Stannis’ eyes narrowed.

 

“Sansa you should not have confronted him alone,”  he chastised.

 

“I didn’t approach him.  Joffrey guessed the truth, that you and I had become lovers on the island.  I had to tell him the rest,” she explained. “He laughed at the idea of our marriage, and he threatened to harm you.”

 

Stannis released bitter chuckle.

 

“Harm me?  How on earth could he do that?”

 

“You mustn’t dismiss him so readily,” Sansa argued, the worry in her voice sounding clearly.  “You are still weak, and he could hire one of these sellswords to do the job for him. Please promise me you’ll be careful!”

 

Sansa held his gaze, communicating in no uncertain terms that she was serious.  She never thought that she and Stannis would be in more danger after they were rescued than they had been on the island, but she felt that way now.  She was relieved when Stannis nodded his agreement.

 

“I will be cautious.”  He brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek.  “Robert guessed part of the truth as well, only I wasn’t able to tell him about our wedding.  Has Joffrey told anyone else about our marriage?”

 

“Not that I am aware,” she answered, feeling a twinge of guilt about keeping Joffrey’s crude advances secret from Stannis.  She might tell him one day, but not while he could be in danger. “Robb and Mother know, but I wanted to wait until you were better and we could tell Father and Robert together.”

 

“You did well to wait,” Stannis answered softly.  “I wouldn’t want you to face them alone. You said that Robb helped you.  Do he and Catelyn approve of your decision to break it off with Joffrey and marry me?”

 

“To some degree,” Sansa sighed.  “They both said our marriage isn’t legally binding and that we will face the consequences of our actions.  They don’t understand, no one can.”

 

“No, I don’t suppose they can.”  Stannis averted his eyes, a pained expression haunting his face that made her worry rise once more.  “You deserve none of this ill treatment at all. This situation is of my making, asking you to be my wife when I had no right.  It isn’t too late.” He took her hand and she could see when their eyes met once more the heavy toll his thoughts were taking upon his emotions.  “You know I would grant you your freedom if you were to ask─”

 

Sansa’s hand broke free of his and flew to his lips, silencing him.

 

“I would never ask such a thing.  Never,” she scolded, her voice rising.  “This is my doing as much as yours and I would not change my mind in a million years!”  Catching herself speaking too loudly, she continued in a heated whisper. “I will be spending the rest of my life as your wife, so get used to it.”

 

That produced a rare, rueful smile from Stannis and she replaced her fingers with her lips and kissed him softly.  

 

“It’s settled then,” he sighed, leaning back as she made herself comfortable once again against his chest.  “We will tell them tomorrow, together.”

 

Sansa relaxed, her eyes becoming heavy as she listened to Stannis’ slow breathing.  They were both drifting off when a matter of great importance suddenly occurred to her.  She lifted herself on one elbow and turned toward Stannis.

 

“There is one more thing I need to tell you,” she said, her heart beating faster.

 

“Yes?”  Stannis replied groggily, struggling to blink away sleep and focus upon her face.

 

“We are going to have a baby.”

 

Stannis didn’t move but his eyes went wide and the blinking stopped.  He seemed to be holding his breath. He had obviously heard her, but to her confusion he remained silent.  She waited for him to contemplate her words.

 

“You are certain?”  He asked at last.  

 

His lack of emotion was not the reaction she’d been hoping for.

 

“All the signs point to it.  I’ve discussed it with Mother, but have told no others until you.”

 

“How long have you known?”  

His voice was strained and she was surprised to find his eyes shiny with moisture.  Were they filling with tears? She still couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad, his expression was too difficult to read.

 

“I was going to tell you the day we saw the pirate ship.  I know it isn’t the best timing─ Stannis are you happy?” Sansa finally asked, her frustration boiling over.

 

He turned toward her then, his mouth half open as he struggled to speak.

 

“Happy?  Of course I’m happy!  We’re going to have a child ─ our child!”  

 

He kept his voice low, an excited whisper, but Sansa could see the effort it took for him not to shout.  His grin was infectious and she laughed in joy and relief as he gathered her into his arms and held her close.  After a few minutes, and several fervent kisses, they parted and she found that he had become serious when he addressed her once more.

 

“My only reservation is that when your condition becomes known it will make it more difficult for us.  At least until we can be officially wed, according to Westeros law. No one will guess the truth right away, but when they do, I will protect you from harsh gossip as best I can.  You have my promise.”

 

“I know I have your promise, and I have all the rest of you too! You’ll make a wonderful father.  I love you so much,” she confessed, making no attempt to contain the tears glistening in her own eyes.

 

“I love you, always,” Stannis replied, without hesitation.

 

Their mouths met once more, a deep lingering kiss, until fatigue finally overtook them and they settled down to sleep, content in each other’s arms.

 


	22. Challenging Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. I was on holiday but I'm back writing now. I hope you enjoy!

 

“How can you be so certain that the guard won’t tell anyone?”  Sansa asked, frowning.

 

Stannis couldn’t prevent himself from staring at her as they stood together on deck, the morning sun warming their skin as the gentle breeze caressed them.  After being cooped up in his dank, dark cabin for so long, and the cave before that, the sight of the sunlight on Sansa’s face, her hair aglow with shades of red and gold, was a feast for his senses.  

 

“He wouldn’t dare admit that he had failed in his duty,”  Stannis answered confidently. Remembering the startled look on the Stormcrow’s face when Stannis had left the cabin accompanied by Sansa brought a fleeting smile to his lips.  “Do not worry. He will keep our secret.”

 

“What about tonight?  Are you certain that telling them all at once is best?  Have you thought about what you are going to say?” She asked, lowering her voice even more, clearly anxious.

 

Despite the conflict that was bound to occur when they faced their families that evening, Stannis’ heart felt light as he inhaled a refreshing breath of sea air and let it out slowly.  He only wished he could hold Sansa’s hand or put his arm around her waist, but any open display of affection was sure to be noticed, and news of their marriage was not yet common knowledge.  He wanted to calm her fears, to make her feel as happy as he did at this moment, still filled with joy from the news that he was going to be a father. No matter how anyone else reacted, he and Sansa were together and they were going to have a little boy or a little girl to share their lives.

 

“I will tell them we are married, and that although we will address any temporary legal challenges that have come from our unique situation, we intend to continue to live together as husband and wife.”

 

Sansa gazed at him and he could see in her eyes that she wanted to take his arm as much as he wanted to give it.   _ Public modesty be damned!   _ He felt awkward enough wearing his uniform for the first time in months, but there was nothing wrong with an officer escorting a lady about the ship, and he refused to let guilt dictate his movements.

 

“Lady Sansa.  May I have the pleasure of escorting you for a walk?”  Stannis asked loudly, offering her his arm. Sansa took it, her smile assuring him he had given her what she wanted.  They began a leisurely stroll, but were soon confronted by the sight of Robert Baratheon heading toward them from the opposite direction. The look on his face announced that he was not pleased.

 

“If it will keep until tonight,” Stannis said softly, as Sansa’s grip on his arm intensified.

 

“Stannis, may I have a word with you?”  Robert abruptly asked, stopping in front of them and putting an end to their forward progress.

 

“Certainly,” Stannis replied, not moving.

 

“In private.”

 

“Anything you wish to say to me, you can say in front of Lady Sansa.”

 

“No.  I’d rather the lady not hear this.”  Robert said curtly.

 

“You gentlemen have your talk, I’ll go and see Mother.  I’ll be in her cabin if you need me.”

 

Sansa directed a meaningful look toward Stannis.  He nodded, assuring her it was okay to leave him alone with Robert.

 

After Sansa was gone, Robert ushered Stannis swiftly back to his cabin.  Once there, he did not mince words.

 

“I thought I made it clear that you were to stay away from her,” he snapped.

 

Stannis tried not to allow himself to be baited into a fight.  

 

“We were taking a stroll along the deck, Robert.  It wasn’t as if we were doing anything inappropriate,” he answered calmly.  “I’ve been cooped up in this tiny room for ages.”

 

“That isn’t the point and you know it,” Robert pressed.  “Sansa belongs to Joffrey. You need to keep your distance!”

 

Stannis felt his anger rising, but he gritted his teeth and attempted to keep his voice steady.

 

“If there is anything I learned about Sansa while we were together on the island, it is that she’s got a mind of her own.  She doesn’t  _ belong _ to anyone, and she’ll keep company with whomever she chooses.”

 

Robert glared at him, clearly upset with Stannis’ defiant attitude.

 

“She’s pledged to my son.  She may keep company with other men now, but when she’s married she’ll obey her husband.”

 

“Like Cersei obeys you?  Like Selyse obeyed me? That isn’t the way it works, they’re our wives not our slaves,” Stannis snapped.

 

“Cersei and I have an understanding,” Robert argued, eyes narrowing.  “I provide the standard of living to which she’s grown accustomed, and she doesn’t embarrass me in public.  I’m sure that Joffrey and Sansa will come to a similar agreement over time. You were a fool to allow Selyse to publicly shame you.”

 

That sent Stannis over the edge.

 

“Selyse didn’t want to stay with me and I didn’t force her.  She made her choice. Staying with you, despite your infidelity, is Cersei’s choice to make.  Sansa is free to make her own choice too, and I assure you it won’t be to allow Joffrey to abuse her as he has been accused of abusing so many other women.  Isn’t that why you banished him to Sothoryos in the first place? So he wouldn’t publicly shame you?”

 

Robert’s face turned the color of wine, and he clenched his fists as if he wanted to throw a punch at his brother’s face.

 

“None of those charges were ever proved,” he snarled.  “Besides, he’s grown up. He’s changed, and he’ll become an even better man when he marries Sansa.  Who are you to say otherwise? This has nothing to do with you!”

 

“It has everything to do with me,” Stannis countered, his voice strangely calm as if on some level he was relieved that it had come to this.  “Sansa is my wife. We were married on the island. We were going to announce it tonight, but I can no longer pretend it isn’t so.”

 

Stannis didn’t think it was possible, but Robert’s complexion turned a shade darker.  He tensed, hoping that it wouldn’t come to blows. He did not wish to fight with his brother.

 

“I told you that I did not wish to know anything about your boorish behavior on the island!  It’s bad enough that you took Sansa’s virginity, but to conclude that somehow makes her your wife is a stretch even for you!” Robert snarled, nearly shouting.  “I’ll hear no more of it. You have no claim upon the lady!”

 

Stannis paused, not wishing to provoke Robert, but knowing the importance of making him understand.

 

“I know you want what is best for your son,” he began, thinking about his own child to be. Despite his own loathing of Joffrey, he was Robert’s child and he must respect that. “Joffrey will find another woman who will suit him better than Sansa would have done.  Sansa and I will begin the process of making our marriage legal under Westerosi law, but we both consider our marriage on the island to be valid. We hope that our families will honor our wishes and accept us as husband and wife.”

 

Robert glared at him, but made no move to strike out.  When he spoke, his voice was calm yet menacing.

 

“I think you’ve forgotten how influential I am in Westeros.  How will you support your young wife if you lose your commission in His Majesty’s Royal Navy?  Where will you go when you’ve lost everything, your reputation, your shares in Baratheon Holdings?  I can see to it that you are rejected from decent society, and Sansa will be treated no better than a common whore. Will she fancy herself in love with you then?  Or will she abandon you just like Selyse?”

 

“You don’t have the power!” Stannis tensed, his anger rising again.

 

“No?”  Robert replied ominously.  “Try me.” He offered Stannis one last cold stare before departing.  “I wouldn’t make any announcements if I were you.”

 

Stannis was furious, shaking his clenched fist impotently at the closed door after Robert had gone.  His own brother had just threatened to ruin him and shame his wife! He and Robert had never been close, but such a betrayal still left him shaken.  He hadn’t expected Robert to be happy about his marriage, but he had expected better treatment than this. How would he break the news to Sansa? He couldn’t tell her that the man she thought of as an uncle had referred to her as a common whore!  Still, they would have to discuss what to do next. Despite Robert’s threats, they must disclose the truth. There was no going back now.

 

~~~

 

“You must tell your father the truth.  It won’t keep any longer,” Catelyn scolded.

 

Sansa sat on the bunk, mending one of her favorite lace shawls as Catelyn was ironing a dress.  She had come here to seek sympathy and advice from her mother, but so far had only got an earful of the latter.

 

“Stannis and I will make the announcement tonight.  There isn’t any point in telling everyone individually,” Sansa argued, though in her heart she suspected Catelyn was right.

 

“There was a time when it made sense to wait, but if Robert is confronting Stannis right now, Stannis is certain to tell him about your marriage.  That makes four of us who know the truth: Robert, Joffrey, Robb and myself. Ned may hear about it from someone other than you or I, and as upsetting as it will be, he will be even angrier that he didn’t hear it from his own family.”

 

“I agree with you, but I need to wait and hear what Stannis has to say before I do anything.”

 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the cabin door.  Before Sansa could answer, Stannis entered. She could tell by the tension in his jaw that he did not have good news.  She fell into his arms to offer comfort as well as to receive it. He held her close and placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead.

 

“What happened?” Catelyn asked impatiently, setting the iron aside.  “I assume Robert was not pleased when you told him.”

 

Stannis reluctantly parted from Sansa before relaying the bad news.

 

“He was not, although I must admit he took it worse than I had expected.”

 

“What did he say?”  Sansa asked, anxiety clutching at her insides.

 

Stannis hesitated, clearly not wishing to upset his wife.

 

“He threatened to have my commission revoked, to put me out of work and to sully my reputation.”

 

“As well as Sansa’s,” Catelyn interjected.  “Don’t try and spare us.”

 

Stannis shot her a blistering glance of annoyance, but nodded his affirmation.

 

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Sansa insisted, taking Stannis’ hand and giving it a sympathetic squeeze.  “He wouldn’t dare. You’re a Baratheon too, and Robert would not bring disgrace upon a member of his family.  Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. We’ll make do, with or without his approval.”

 

“It isn’t that simple,” Stannis argued, shaking his head.  “Robert is desperate to protect Joffrey, and it seems he feels that our marriage shames him in some way.  I’ve no doubt he could follow through on his threats if he so chooses.”

 

“I agree with Sansa on this,” Catelyn declared, causing Sansa to turn her head in surprise.  “Robert wouldn’t dare sully the family name. Give it time and his anger will fade. Now, Ned’s approval may be harder won.  You must tell him before he hears it from another.”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

She had been so absorbed in the conversation with Stannis and her mother, that Sansa hadn’t heard the door open.  Surprise registered on all three of their faces as they turned to find Ned standing in the doorway. He entered, a questioning look on his face before closing the door behind him and waiting expectantly for someone to answer.  Sansa’s heart began to pound in her chest for she realized that there was no escaping from telling Ned the truth. Moreover, she’d been holding Stannis’ hand when her father had entered. Had he noticed?

 

Sansa opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, Stannis held up a hand to silence her.

 

“It is my duty to tell your father the truth,” he said, the firmness of his tone allowing no room for argument.

 

Ned turned to face Stannis, curiosity in his gaze.

 

“Go on,” he encouraged.

 

Sansa knew Stannis wasn’t one to mince words and true to form he got right to the point.

 

“Sansa and I had little hope of rescue on the island.  We decided to get on with our lives and began a courtship.”

 

“Oh?” Ned looked more intrigued than angry.  Sansa glanced at her mother, whose eyes remained fixed upon her husband, her body tense with anticipation of his reaction.

 

“I regret that I was not able to ask you for your daughter’s hand, but Sansa and I married in a private ceremony.  We are husband and wife in every sense, save for Westerosi legalities, which we intend to remedy as soon as possible.  Due to my unfortunate illness, we weren’t able to make the announcement until now.”

 

“I see,” Ned said, frowning.  He turned to Catelyn. “How long have you known?”

 

“I guessed the truth from the first, from Sansa’s insistence on seeing him.  I asked her to wait before she told anyone ─ just to be certain.”  

 

Catelyn’s eyes pleaded with him to understand.

 

“Don’t blame Mother,” Sansa interjected.  “I wanted to wait until I spoke with Stannis ─ to my husband.”

 

Sansa waited for the inevitable explosion of her father’s anger, but to her surprise, it did not come.

 

“Does anyone else know yet?  Joffrey? Robert? You’ve all been behaving strangely of late. I’m guessing something or someone forced your hand,” Ned asked, studying their faces in turn.  “Tell me everything.”

As the story unfolded, told in turn by Sansa, Stannis and Catelyn, Sansa continued to be astonished by her father’s calm demeanor.  He was acting as if this were a problem to be solved rather than an affront to his authority as she had feared.

 

“I’m not surprised that Robert guessed that something was happening between the two of you,” Ned said at last.  “It’s been obvious to everyone from the way Sansa was behaving, and then when I walked in and caught the two of you holding hands...well let’s say I wasn’t shocked. Now, I would like to speak to my daughter,”  he looked pointedly at Sansa, then at Stannis and Catelyn. “Alone.”

 

“Anything you have to say to Sansa, you can say in my presence,” Stannis argued, taking Sansa’s hand once more.

 

“Stannis, i’ll be fine,” Sansa squeezed his hand reassuringly.  “You can go. I wish to speak with Father alone now, as you did with Robert.”

 

Stannis could hardly argue with that, but still he was reluctant to leave.

 

“You’re certain?”  His dark eyes searched hers for any sign of discomfort.

 

“Yes,” she nodded firmly, then gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.  “Thank you for understanding.”

 

Stannis held out a hand, motioning for Catelyn to proceed, and after she gave Sansa a brief hug, they left the cabin with Stannis closing the door behind them.  Sansa took a deep breath, bracing herself for the reprimand she expected. Instead she received a look of concern as Ned gathered her into his arms.

 

“Are you all right?  Really?” He asked softly.

 

Sansa felt tears of relief and happiness welling in her eyes.

 

“Yes,” she gasped.  “Father, I love Stannis with all my heart. We are so very happy together!”

 

“I must admit I’m disappointed that you didn’t tell me straight away.”

 

“I thought you’d be angry,” she pulled back, studying his face.

 

“Angry?  Why?” He looked genuinely puzzled.

 

“I was disobedient.  You wished for me to marry Joffrey.”  

 

Sansa searched for a handkerchief and finding one, dabbed at her eyes.

 

“I thought you loved Joffrey,” Ned explained, shaking his head.  “You were always so taken with him. Robert wanted the marriage and I thought you did too.”

 

“I may have thought so once, but I began to realize we weren’t in love.  I don’t know if Joffrey is capable of loving any woman.” 

 

She felt guilty for keeping the entire truth from Ned and Stannis, but she didn’t wish to repeat Joffrey’s obscene threats to them.

 

“I’ll admit I have my reservations about him, now that he’s older and still there are rumors of his…indiscretions.  I was hoping he would change for Robert’s sake.”

 

“As did I,” Sansa agreed.  “But, I do not love him. I love Stannis.”

 

“Very well,” Ned smiled and Sansa felt her heart swell with joy.  “Then I will help you to make it official. I’ll speak to Robert. He will never be happy about it, but he will come to accept it given enough time.  For now, I suggest steering clear of him and Joffrey. We’ll be in Sothoryos within a fortnight.”

 

“Thank you, Father,” Sansa replied, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.  She hugged Ned once more, excited at the thought of telling Stannis the good news.

 

“I only want the best for my little girl,” Ned sighed, holding her close.

 

~~~

 

“I can’t believe he took it so well,” Robb said with a chuckle, standing by Catelyn against the rail as Stannis paced anxiously nearby.  “I was certain that his head would explode!”

 

“Aye, it surprised me too, and I’m married to the man,” Catelyn answered before turning a concerned eye toward Stannis.  “She’ll be fine, Stannis. You saw for yourself that Ned wasn’t angry. You needn’t wear a hole in the deck.”

 

He stopped for a moment and regarded the sun which was riding low in the hazy afternoon sky.

 

“How long has it been?  Shouldn’t they be finished by now?”  He asked of either Stark.  

 

Catelyn was about to reply when he saw her stiffen unexpectedly and Robb’s eyes widened in alarm.  Stannis started to turn but was startled by an unexpected shove from behind which sent him banging against the rail, forcing him to grab hold before falling overboard.  He twisted around, furious, to face his attacker. It was none other than Joffrey Baratheon standing before him, a smirk on his face, and the smell of rum hanging in the air around his person.  Daario Naharis and another large Stormcrow flanked him on either side, arms crossed and chins raised to thwart any attempt at retaliation.

 

“Joffrey, please.  There is no call for violence,” Robb began, stepping forward with hands raised in a peaceful gesture.

 

“Oh that wasn’t violence,”  Joffrey scoffed, regarding both Stannis and Robb with contempt.  “That was only a warning.”

 

“You’re drunk!  You reek of alcohol.  Return to your cabin at once and I’ll forget your boorish behavior,” Stannis snarled.

 

“It was your behavior that was boorish,  _ Uncle _ . You stole my woman from me and ruined her.  You made a fool of me in front of everyone and I will have the revenge that I am due!”

 

“What are you talking about?  No one disrespected you, though I’m sure you’ve done much to deserve it,” Stannis growled.  “Sansa was never your woman. She and I are married. You must accept it and move on with your life.  Now get out of my sight before I have you arrested for assaulting an officer.”

 

“I don’t imagine anyone here considers you an officer anymore,” Joffrey laughed.  “Father has told me your commission will be revoked. It is of no consequence though, because I came here to force you to atone for your disrespect.”

 

Before anyone could react, he stepped forward and slapped Stannis sharply across the face with the back of his hand.  Robb immediately grabbed his arm, but Naharis wrested it from him. The other Stormcrow stepped between Stannis and Joffrey, as Stannis tensed his arm, ready to throw a punch if Joffrey were to continue with his assault.  He did not, and the men stood fast in heated silence as Catelyn looked on in shock and a crowd of sailors began to gather around them. Noticing the audience, Joffrey raised his voice.

 

“Stannis Baratheon, I challenge you to a duel!  Pistols at twenty paces! How say you? Do you accept or are you a coward?”

 

“You fool!” Stannis shouted, his face red with anger.  “I would love to put a bullet in you, but you’re blood kin.  Your father would never abide it. Stand down at once!”

 

“You refuse then?  Stannis Baratheon is a coward!”

 

“He is not!” 

 

All heads turned as Sansa Stark arrived on the scene.  She attempted to reach Stannis, but was held in check by Ned Stark who was right behind her.  

 

“Stannis is the bravest man I know!  It is you who are acting cowardly!” She cried even as Ned tried to silence her.

 

“Joffrey, calm yourself,” Ned cajoled, his voice firm but measured.  “Let us find Robert and discuss this in private like gentlemen.”

 

Joffrey only sneered at him.

 

“It seems my Uncle is no longer a stag but a doe, gelded by a woman.  If he is truly no coward, let him prove it and accept my challenge!”

 

“So be it you little beast!  Do you even know how to shoot?”  Stannis sneered in return, clenching his jaw.

 

“Stannis, no!”  Sansa cried, still being kept from running to him by Ned.  She struggled within his grasp to no avail. “Don’t give in to him!  You can’t trust him!”

 

“It’s settled then.  Pistols at dawn,” Joffrey nodded, still smirking.  “Ladies.” He bowed his head in fake reverence to Sansa and Catelyn before taking his leave, followed closely by his sellsword guards.

 

When he was gone, Ned let go of Sansa who immediately rushed into Stannis’ waiting arms.  The onlookers began to disperse now that the excitement was over.

 

“You will do no such thing,” she scolded, her face inches from his.  “I won’t have it! I won’t allow you to die because of that awful snake, not after all we’ve been through.”

 

“Shhh,” Stannis whispered softly.  “Nothing is going to happen to me. When Robert hears of this he won’t allow it to continue.  Don’t worry.”

 

“You’re quite sure?” Sansa gazed into his eyes, searching for reassurance.

 

“I’m positive,” Stannis answered, taking her chin and tilting her head so he could place a passionate kiss upon her willing lips.

 

As he kissed Sansa in full view of witnesses, leaving no further doubt to anyone that he considered her to be his wife, he dismissed the niggling worry in a far corner of his mind.  Yes, Robert had behaved unreasonably when he’d told him the truth, but surely he would not allow his son and his brother to enter into mortal combat. On this point family would prevail over petty jealousies.  Even Robert would see that there was no need for bloodshed. He must.

 


	23. We Can Work It Out

“Robert, even you must agree that this is a bad idea,” Ned argued, pleading with his friend to see reason.

 

Stannis stood in one corner of Robert’s spacious, lavishly decorated, cabin and watched the evolving discussion, using every ounce of restraint to remain silent.  He had insisted on being present, despite Ned’s reservations, but had promised not to open his mouth, lest he provoke his brother even more. He was beginning to think this had been a useless exercise.  Even Ned didn’t seem to be making much headway against Robert’s stubbornness.

 

“The boy’s honor was damaged by my brother’s thoughtless behavior,” Robert protested, sending a withering glance Stannis’ way.  “I see no reason why he shouldn’t save face.”

 

“You would see your brother or your son, or both, dead then?  Rather that seek a peaceful solution?”

 

Robert had no answer for that.  He simply grumbled to himself and poured another drink from the array of bottles on the desk.

 

“Why are you so insistent that Joffrey and Sansa marry?  It seems to me that, given they had been separated for so long, a reassessment of the engagement would not be unthinkable,” Ned pressed.  “The circumstances are unique, to say the least, and some bending of social norms is to be expected. I think with the proper apologies, forgiving Stannis would be the appropriate course of action.  No one would think less of Joffrey because of it.”

 

Robert stiffened, slamming down his glass and turning on Ned.

 

“There was a marriage contract!” Robert shouted, clearly agitated by any talk of finding another solution.  Ned and Stannis waited as he began to pace, shaking his head as if to clear it. “It isn’t just me. I promised the bloody King!”

 

Stannis and Ned glanced at each other, surprised by this new admission.  

 

“There was a prophecy, in the flames,” he wiggled his fingers and made a silly face, clearly mocking the very suggestion.  “You know how gullible His Majesty is about prophecies. He wanted an alliance between our families ─ to better secure the North, what with all the rebellions of late.”

 

Ned nodded in understanding as Stannis just scowled.  This was interesting indeed. He wondered why Robert hadn’t mentioned it before now.

 

“As I see it, you have an alliance between our families, just not the one you assumed it would be.  Explain it to the King. What is the problem?” Ned asked, his voice optimistic for the first time.

 

“Stannis already has one failed marriage, and no children to show for it!  I’m not going to vouch for a man who doesn’t know how to control his own wife!”  Robert spat, this time directing his words at Stannis.

 

Stannis realized that he could announce that he and Sansa were expecting a child, but he would not use their happiness as a weapon to defend himself against Robert’s ridiculous accusations, for he also sensed that Robert had another motive for his unwillingness to bend ─ one that was far more sinister.  Robert knew that Joffrey was incompetent with a weapon. He knew that there was a good chance that Stannis would be the victor in any duel between them. He also knew what that meant. Ned tried to hold him back, but he inserted himself firmly in front of his brother so that their chests were nearly touching.

 

“It would serve you well if Joffrey were to die tomorrow,” he hissed through clenched teeth.  “He would die a brave death and all those nasty rumors would die with him. Your reputation would be golden and you’d have the sympathy of the King on your side for any future trade deals.”

 

“Why you─” Robert raised his fist to strike but Ned threw himself between the two men, shoving Robert aside and pinning his arms.

 

“Gentlemen, please!” He begged, while Stannis continued to argue, knowing that he had struck the truth.

 

“What you haven’t considered is what would happen if Joffrey were to cheat, as is his practice, and murder me,” Stannis snarled.  “What would happen to your King’s alliance then? Do you really think Sansa would agree to marry Joffrey, even if you could command Joffrey to take her?  Think it through, brother!”

 

“Enough!”  Robert cried, wrenching away from Ned.  “I’ve heard quite enough!”

 

Ned and Stannis stood at the ready should Robert charge at them, but he remained where he was, breathing heavily, his face darkened with rage.

 

“I’ll not interfere with justice.  The duel will take place at dawn. Now get out of my sight the both of you!”

 

Stannis knew there was no reasoning with him.  Ned hesitated, but soon came to the same conclusion and both men left the cabin.  Ned patted Stannis’ shoulder.

 

“Robb promised to speak to Joffrey.  Maybe once he sobers up he will realize that he can’t win and he’ll back down.”

 

“I doubt it,” Stannis replied, defeated.  He had no idea how he would break the news to Sansa.  “I’ll take my leave now. I must go to Sansa.”

 

Ned nodded his understanding and Stannis could see the genuine concern on his face.  He was in a difficult position no matter the outcome. He hadn’t considered Ned a friend before, only Robert’s friend, but he suddenly regarded him in a new light.

 

“Thank for trying,” he said, offering his hand to Ned, who shook it firmly.

 

~~~

 

Sansa had attempted to tidy up the cabin she and Stannis now shared, but in reality all she had accomplished was an hour or two of aimless pacing, her mind wandering anxiously from one horrific outcome of tomorrow’s duel to another.  She was saved from her destructive thoughts by a sharp knock at the door. She was expecting Stannis’ return, but surely he wouldn’t knock. Sansa threw open the door and Robb quickly entered, looking about the cabin.

 

“Where is Stannis?  I need to speak with him,” he asked, the frown on his face very troubling.

 

“He hasn’t returned yet.  What is it? Tell me,” Sansa insisted, closing the door and ushering Robb to the nearest chair.

 

Robb hesitated, clearly not wishing to tell her, but at last with a sigh of resignation he spoke.

 

“Joffrey refused me to be his second.”

 

Sansa, who was not familiar at all with the rules of engaging in a duel, was confused.

 

“Is that good or bad?”

 

“It’s awful.”

 

“I don’t understand.  As Joffrey’s second wouldn’t you be helping him?  That doesn’t benefit Stannis.”

 

“As second it would be my job to try and negotiate a peaceful resolution to the conflict,” Robb answered, a hint of impatience in his voice. “It is obvious that Joffrey does not intend for a peaceful end to this nonsense.”

 

Sansa began to see the point and why Robb was so upset.

 

“Let me guess, Naharis is his second,” she said as her brother nodded gravely. “I suspect that Joffrey is as incapable of firing a pistol as he is at most tasks he considers beneath him,” she added.  “At least we have that.”

 

She thought her words might bring a smile to Robb’s face, but she watched his expression grow even darker.

 

“What?  There is something you know that you aren’t saying.”

 

“Sansa, if something were to happen to Joffrey, for instance if he were to become ill, according to the rules, his second can stand in for him in the duel.  Joffrey may be a poor shot, but Naharis is a decorated marksman.”

 

Sansa couldn’t prevent the gasp of shock and outrage that escaped her lips.

 

“Joffrey hasn’t any intention of facing Stannis!  You think he’ll send Naharis in his stead. No, no, no...he wouldn’t dare, the craven coward!”  

 

Even as she said it, she knew it to be true.  Joffrey would dare. He was that much of a monster.

 

“But, Stannis ─ he could have a second too!”  She exclaimed, meeting Robb’s gaze in desperation.

 

“Yes, but you and I both know that Stannis is an honorable man.  He would never ask another to fight in his stead. Joffrey knows it too.  He’s counting on it.”

 

“Of course he wouldn’t,” she agreed.  She knew it all along, it was Joffrey’s audacity making her grasp at impossible solutions.  “Then it’s up to me to stop it. I won’t allow Stannis to go. I shall forbid it.”

 

It was at that moment Stannis returned.  He entered the cabin, his shoulders drooping from fatigue.  Frustration and annoyance were evident from his frown and the clenching of his teeth.  There was no point in asking whether Ned had managed to convince Robert to put a stop to the duel, the disheartening answer was written on his face.  Sansa’s heart, already heavy, sank further.  

 

Stannis appeared too distracted to have made much of their conversation, even if he had heard any of it.  When he saw Robb he stopped short, as if his presence was unexpected.

 

“Robb.  Have you brought news?” he asked.

 

Robb and Sansa had risen to their feet and now Robb looked awkwardly at his sister.

 

“I have,” he answered, shifting uncomfortably toward the door.  “But, I’ll take my leave and allow Sansa to explain.”  

 

With that he made a hasty retreat, offering Sansa a look of apology.

 

“That was odd,” Stannis sniffed, after Robb had departed.  “What was that about?”

 

Sansa turned away, suddenly overwhelmed by the fears and frustrations that the day had wrought.  Life on the island had been easy compared to this. She and Stannis had experienced so little peaceful time to themselves since returning to the Fury.  More bad news and arguing over what to do about it could wait a few more minutes.  

 

She touched her hair, wishing she would have had time to comb it before Stannis returned.  She wanted to look her best for her husband. Their cabin may not be home, but she could try to make it seem like one when they were together.

 

“Have you eaten?” She asked, with a soft smile, composing herself before turning once again to face him.

 

Stannis studied her closely, obviously wondering what had brought about her change in mood, and why she had deflected his question.  She would try her best to distract him.

 

“Mother brought some supper on a tray.” Sansa took Stannis’ hand, motioning for him to sit.  “She knew we wouldn’t wish to dine in the Captain’s quarters tonight. Come ─ we can talk later.”

 

Sansa helped him remove his coat as he stood behind the chair, still eyeing her suspiciously.  She stepped to the corner of the cabin to hang it on the rack, and was startled when she turned around to discover Stannis had followed her and was now standing right in front of her.  He gently gathered her into his arms and held her close. She felt the tension leave her body as she melted against him. She smoothed her hands across his back, wishing to relieve the tightness she found there as well.

 

“It has been an exhausting day,” she whispered against his neck.

 

“Mmmm,” he murmured as her hands drifted south, kneading as they went.

 

“We shouldn’t let the actions of others temper our happiness,” she sighed, as Stannis began to stroke her hair. “We are together now, and that is all that matters.  Everything else can wait.”

 

Sansa gazed into his eyes, recognizing the desire smoldering there beneath his tired expression.  She pulled Stannis toward her, taking his mouth with a tender kiss, lips parted, inviting his tongue to engage with her own.  Supper was quickly forgotten, along with the cares of the day. As their kisses deepened, her mind began to drift and her only thoughts were of his roaming hands caressing the sides of her breasts and cupping her buttocks, the urgent need to shed the many layers of clothing that separated his body from her own, and the growing fire of lust deep within her lower belly.

 

Shedding her bulkier outer dress with Stannis’ assistance, Sansa was left wearing only her thin chemise, and the memory of their time on the island brought a refreshing feeling of freedom she hadn’t experienced in the last few days.  She sank to her knees before him, making quick work untying the leather laces of his breeches. She felt his eyes intently fixed upon her as she tugged his pants down past his hips, freeing his semi-erect member.

 

“Permission to continue, Captain?” Sansa asked, meeting his gaze and provocatively wetting her lips as she took him in hand.

 

“Granted,” Stannis barely managed to reply in a husky whisper.

 

Sansa didn’t hesitate, taking him into her mouth, her tongue swirling about the head like a lollypop.  

 

“Seven hells ─” Stannis groaned, his thighs tensing as his fingers desperately combed through her hair. 

 

Sansa brought him to full mast in no time, for she was far more experienced than the first time she had dared to attempt such an act on the island, his occasional murmurs of pleasure a testament to her skill.  Allowing his glistening erection to slip from between her lips, she gave him a couple of firm strokes which brought forth an audible gasp. Stannis urgently touched her arm to slow her movement. Clearly, he had his own ideas for how they would proceed.  His eyes burned hot as he helped her to her feet. 

 

“I want to see all of you,” he growled, displeased by the fact that she was still partially dressed.

 

Stannis sat on the bed, quickly shedding his remaining clothing.  Sansa stood in front of him, squeezing her thighs together. Their passionate foreplay had left her impatient for his intimate touch, and her fingers drifted between her legs to soothe her growing need.  The movement captured Stannis’ attention and his face darkened with desire.  

 

“Come here,” he demanded, positioning her between his legs.  

 

Stannis teased her chemise up slowly, kissing each inch of newly exposed flesh that was uncovered, as Sansa shivered with delight from the sensation of his beard tickling her sensitive skin.  When he reached her breasts, it didn’t take long for her nipples to become stiff and swollen under his gentle caresses and the hot, wet, heat of his mouth sucking each in turn. 

 

Tugging her chemise over her head, Sansa freed herself at last and tossed it aside.  Stannis gazed at her naked form before him, entranced as he brushed her long hair, which had fallen across her chest, back behind her shoulders.  She kissed him again, greedily, moaning as his fingers probed between her thighs and stroked the slick flesh of her entrance. More than ready to feel her lover inside her, she reached for his stiff member and gave it a firm squeeze, which caused him to stop kissing her and look into her eyes.

 

“Lie down,” Sansa instructed, placing a hand on Stannis’ chest and coaxing him onto his back as she climbed on top, straddling him.

 

Sansa leaned down, kissing Stannis again as she squeezed his manhood between her thighs.  Rocking her hips, she relished the feel of him pressing against her, gliding between her swollen labia as she coated him with her juices.  Stannis encouraged her, cupping her ass with his large palms, forcing her to rub more forcefully against him.  

 

Unable to wait an instant longer, Sansa raised herself on her knees and guided his rigid cock to her entrance.  She sank down slowly, wrenching a groan of pleasure from both of them as she impaled herself on his sword. Stannis continued to guide her as she began to ride him hard, his fingers digging into her flesh and his hips thrusting against her in concert with her stuttering rhythm.  She savored the sensation of being filled completely, and the delicious friction of him gliding against her inflamed inner passage. Soon, she began to experience the fluttering sparks of nearing release when Stannis stilled her, placing a hand on her stomach.  

 

Stannis began to sit up, and she knew instantly what he wanted.  Carefully, they exchanged positions, with Stannis barely withdrawing from her for a moment, before plunging into her again as he knelt between her legs.  Holding her securely in place, he began to fuck her hard and fast as she wrapped her legs around him tightly. Her knees dug into his sides as the increased friction of this new position, and the deep penetration caused her to orgasm almost at once.

 

“Stannis ─!” she cried, arching her back as the spasms shook her core.  She was only dimly aware of him rocking against her for a few moments longer, and his own strangled cry of release as she was submerged in wave after wave of pleasure.  Her body felt as warm and light as if she were floating in a pool of water when she took one last deep breath and began the reluctant journey back to full awareness.

 

Stannis was lying beside her, his own rapid breathing beginning to slow as his fingers absently traced circles on her thigh.

 

“I needed that,” he whispered against her shoulder.  “Thank you.”

 

“We both needed that,” she replied.  

 

She would have liked nothing more than to fall asleep in Stannis’ arms, but her stomach clenched and made a soft gurgling noise, causing her to snort with laughter.

 

“Now I think we both need to eat something.”

 

They rose, and after washing up, donned their comfortable bedtime clothing.  Stannis sat at the small desk, as Sansa prepared two plates. Despite their recent intimacy, a feeling of dread began to creep into her chest.  She realized that she could not put off their unpleasant discussion any longer.

 

“Robb brought news of Joffrey,” she said as Stannis began to eat a slice of bread.

 

He didn’t answer but looked at her expectantly as she hesitated.

 

“He asked Naharis to be his second,” Sansa explained at last.  “Robb thinks it is because Joffrey has no intention of fighting you himself, but will have the sellsword face you.”

 

To her surprise, Stannis chuckled.

 

“That idea is ridiculous!  Why would Joffrey do that? He would be branded a coward.  He would be made to look more foolish that he is.”

 

Sansa’s face reddened, upset by Stannis’ attitude.

 

“Why are you making light of this?  Of course Joffrey would do it. He doesn’t care what people think, he only wants to win.  He means to kill you! I don’t suppose Robert agreed to call off the duel?”

 

The smile faded from Stannis’ face, and he averted his eyes, clearly not wishing to upset her more.  He shook his head.

 

“It doesn’t matter.  I assure you I won’t allow Joffrey to win by deceit or other means.  I’ll try not to kill him, but if I do, Robert has brought this on himself.”

 

“Why would you fight him, knowing he will cheat?  There is no reason to go through with it. Stannis, I’m begging you to abstain.  As your wife, I’m demanding that you abstain!”

 

Stannis stared at her, as if confused by her words.

 

“I must face him.  We can’t allow him to make a mockery of our marriage.  He’s insulted us both!”

 

“I don’t care!”  Sansa snapped. “I don’t care what anyone says, or what names people call us.  I want my husband alive! You have a duty to your wife and to your expected child.”

 

Stannis shook his head in frustration.

 

“That is why I must continue with the duel.”

 

Sansa frowned, a growing fear making her stomach sink.

 

“When you were ill, Joffrey threatened me.”  It was a risk, telling Stannis the truth. It might make him more determined to kill Joffrey, but she had to try anything to make him understand.  “He said he would have the Maester poison you, or have one of his men kill you, if I didn’t ─”

 

Stannis tensed his eyes narrowing, his sharp gaze burning into her as he realized what she was telling him.  She didn’t need to finish the sentence.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?  He didn’t hurt you did he?”  Stannis snarled.

 

“No.” Sansa assured him.  “I would never have gone through with it.  I know he isn’t to be trusted. There was no way he would keep his word, even if I did what he wanted.  You can’t go through with the duel. He will never keep his word!”

 

Stannis’ expression softened.  He reached for her hand, but Sansa pulled away.  She was too upset to allow him to comfort her.

 

“That is exactly why I must go through with it,” Stannis argued.  “If I back down now, do you think that will be the end of it?”

 

Sansa refused to answer.  She felt strangely numb, all emotion drained from her.  It was as if her heart had been torn from her chest and she could no longer feel it.  

 

“Joffrey will find some way to hurt us,” he continued, but she wasn’t really listening.  “At least this way there will be witnesses. I want it to end tomorrow. It will end tomorrow.  Please try and understand.”

 

She couldn’t change his mind and she couldn’t accept his decision.  What was left for them to do?

 

“I cannot understand.  You would risk everything for pride,” she replied, her voice cold.  “Or for some decades old feud between you and Robert. Very well, then you will face Joffrey or Naharis alone.  I will not watch the man I love die for nothing. I will not be there.”

 

“Sansa, please,” Stannis whispered, standing to place his hand on her shoulder.  

 

Sansa pushed back from the desk, her chair clattering to the floor as she jerked away from him.

 

“I’ll not stay here tonight.  I’m going to sleep in Mother’s cabin.”  She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders before rushing to the cabin door.  She paused, her back toward Stannis. “Goodbye, Stannis,” she said, before leaving him behind, refusing to look at him again as he stared in utter disbelief.

 


	24. Family Ties

 

“Stannis!  Stannis, please help!”

 

Stannis’ legs were heavy, nearly useless, keeping him from running the deck at full speed.  He heard Sansa screaming but he couldn’t see her in the thick fog that had enveloped the ship.  He stumbled in the direction of the sound, squinting to see through the hazy darkness. In the back of his mind, he told himself that he must be dreaming, but his heart pounded in his chest, and sweat burst forth on his brow as if Sansa’s peril was all too real.

 

“Help, please, help!”

 

He lumbered forward, onward and onward, gripping the rail for support, walking for far longer than he should have done to reach the prow of the Fury.  Suddenly, the fog parted and he saw them, the clear vision no less horrifying than his imaginings. Sansa stood at the rail, Joffrey by her side holding a knife to her throat, the blade etching a fine, red, line into her ivory skin.  He was laughing as she screamed.

 

“You’re too late to save her, Stannis!” Joffrey sneered.  “If I can’t have her, no man can!”

 

Before Stannis could move, Joffrey shoved Sansa over the rail without hesitation.  Unthinking, Stannis leapt over after her. The fog enveloped him once more, and he was falling faster and faster, hearing Sansa screaming somewhere below.

 

“Stannis, wake up!”

 

Expecting the shock of hitting the water that never came, Stannis started awake, roused by a hand shaking him.  His heart was still pounding and the dream seemed real still. He realized that Ned Stark was standing over him, frowning with concern.  Stannis sat up, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

 

“Ned?  What is it? Has something happened to Sansa?”

 

“Sansa?”  Ned seemed confused.  “No, she’s fine. I left her with Catelyn.  She’s still upset but that’s understandable, I suppose.”

 

“What are you doing here?”  Stannis asked, relieved that his fears about Sansa had proved unfounded.

 

“It’s nearly dawn,” Ned answered.  “I thought you could use…” he hesitated, studying Stannis carefully as if he was anticipating a negative reaction.  “A second.”

 

Stannis stared at Ned in surprise.  This was not something he would ever have expected.  He wasn’t used to having another man offer support unless he wanted something in return.  In this case, Ned had little to gain from his proposal, and much to lose. He had to admit he was touched by the gesture.

 

“You would risk becoming a target for Robert’s wrath?”

 

Ned smiled ruefully.

 

“I think I did that yesterday.  Besides, Robert is my best friend, but you are now my kin by marriage.  I owe you my loyalty ─ for Sansa’s sake if nothing else.”

 

At the mention of his wife, Stannis’ heart fell.

 

“Sansa may not think kindly of your offer.  She’s removed herself from the whole sordid business,” Stannis replied, sadly.  “Perhaps our marriage as well.”

 

“She still loves you,” Ned assured him.  “She’s just terribly frightened for you.”

 

“I keep wondering if she’s right.  Am I only acting out of pride? Risking my life and our future, for nothing?”

 

Ned shook his head. 

 

“You are in an impossible position as I see it.  Joffrey has seen to that. If you fight him, you risk being killed.  If you refuse, you’ll lose the respect of your men, and you will live in fear of retaliation.  You mustn’t punish yourself for the decision you’ve made.”

 

Stannis nodded, and met Ned’s gaze.

 

“Has Sansa told you that she is with child?”

 

Ned’s eyes widened slightly, and Stannis could sense his growing happiness as he considered the prospect of becoming a grandfather again.

 

“No,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation. “But, I must admit it makes sense, the way Catelyn has been hovering over her like a mother hen.  That makes your decision all the more difficult, and Sansa’s reaction all the more understandable.”

 

Stannis nodded, and began dressing in silence.  He found Ned’s presence oddly reassuring. At least the man understood his dilemma, and wasn’t chastising him for his decision.  He could only hope everything would work out, though he knew it was foolish to believe that it would at this point. At least he knew Sansa would be protected from Joffrey, no matter the outcome.  Ned would see to it. It was clear to him now that he’d been wrong about Ned. If a choice were necessary, Ned would choose his family over his loyalty to Robert, and that set Stannis’ mind at ease for the moment.

 

“I’m going to go now, and speak to Naharis.  I’ll make sure everything is as it should be.  I want to check the weapons thoroughly. If Robert is around, I’ll try changing his mind again, as futile as that seems,” Ned explained, heading for the door and leaving Stannis to his preparations.  “I’ll meet you on the foredeck.”

 

“Ned,” Stannis stopped him, causing him to turn his head.  “Thank you.”  

 

Ned smiled, and replied with a simple nod.

 

~~~

 

Stannis arrived on deck just as the grey light of dawn was dissolving the shadows.  He was surprised to find himself walking through a rather deep gauntlet of mostly crewmen, and a few officers.  Most remained silent, but some murmured words of encouragement as he passed. He was the favorite in this match it seemed, a position to which he was unaccustomed.  He noticed several Stormcrows milling around as well, standing apart from the rest of the crowd. There were only a few women present, and though it pained him, Stannis was also relieved that Sansa wasn’t there.  He felt it his duty to proceed, but he was not proud of it by any means. He only hoped she would forgive him, if he survived.  

 

When he reached the end of the foredeck, he found Ned Stark waiting, with Robb a few feet away.  Notably absent were Robert Baratheon and his son. 

 

“No sign of Joffrey yet,” Ned announced, engaging Stannis with a handshake to emphasize the formality of the occasion.

 

“I’m not surprised,” Stannis scoffed.  “The boy wants to make a show of this, I’m sure.”

 

As if on cue, Joffrey came into view, strolling toward them, flanked by Daario Naharis, who carried a small leather case which presumably contained the weapons.  Both were dressed in their most colorful clothing. Joffrey’s outfit was complete with silken stockings and boots made of calfskin, sporting gleaming silver buckles engraved with the Lannister Lion.  Stannis immediately took note of the prominent white bandage wrapped tightly around Joffrey’s right hand, dotted with a few stains of what appeared to be blood.

 

“Uncle,” Joffrey greeted him, coming to a stop in front of his rival.  His voice was loud enough for all the onlookers to hear clearly. “I apologize for my late arrival.  I was with Maester Pycelle. As you can see, I wounded my hand last night in an unfortunate accident ─ a game of knives with the Stormcrows gone wrong.”  

 

He dramatically raised his hand for all to see.  Ned stepped forward as Stannis regarded his nephew with a scowl.  Sansa’s fears had been realized.

 

“So, it seems you will be unable to fire a weapon.  In that case, I demand that you call off the duel at once!”

 

There was a burst of laughter among the the crowd that threatened to drown out Joffrey’s reply.  

 

“Wait!” he shouted, shushing them, his mouth distorting into a sneer.  “It is true I cannot fire a weapon myself, but it is within the rules for my second to do so in my stead!  I offer, Daario Naharis, as my second to face my opponent, Stannis Baratheon, and win back the honor he has stolen from me.”

 

There were distinct whispers of  _ coward _ from the crowd, but Joffrey’s gaze remained fixed upon Stannis.

 

“This is most unusual,” Ned spoke up before Stannis could answer.  “You must withdraw your challenge until you are recovered─”

 

“There is no need,” Stannis interrupted, his eyes darkening with fury.  “If Joffrey is this dishonorable, and the Stormcrow is willing to die for his pay, then so be it.  We shall see how brave my nephew is without his bodyguard.”

 

The crowd began making more noise, aroused by Stannis’ emotional words.  Several shouts of  _ Stannis _ rang out, causing Joffrey to twist his head trying to identify his uncle’s supporters.

 

“You are the dishonorable one, Uncle.  You ruined the virtue of a young maiden betrothed to me!  I am well within my rights to make you pay for your treachery!”  Joffrey shouted, obviously playing to the crowd.

 

“ _ Ruined a young maiden _ ─ you sound as if we are living in ancient Valyria,” Stannis scoffed.  “Sansa is a woman with a mind of her own. She made her choice and she chose me over you.  All of these ridiculous theatrics only serve to make you appear more foolish.”

 

Joffrey hesitated, his face distorted in anger as he glared at Stannis.  The crowd was not on his side and he didn’t like it in the least.

 

Finally, Joffrey raised his chin in triumph and shouted, “Sansa isn’t here, is she?  If she chose you, as you say, why isn’t she here to show her support? You are a liar!”

 

“I am here.”

 

Stannis looked up, stunned to see Sansa, accompanied by Catelyn, standing on the elevated walkway leading to the bridge.  She wore a simple black dress and a lace veil, as if in mourning. She was pale, and her expression was grim. Stannis thought she looked as if she hadn’t slept.  He wanted to rush to her side, but that would be improper given the circumstances, and would not help his cause. Her voice was soft and many in the crowd hadn’t heard her arrive, but a hush fell over them when they turned to see what had captured Stannis’ attention so fully.  Sansa made a striking figure and held their complete attention.

 

“Stannis is no liar,” Sansa continued, raising her voice so everyone could hear.  “I did choose him, but that was no dishonor to you, Joffrey Baratheon. Everyone deserves to know the truth.  We hadn’t spoken in nearly two years! You never answered my letters. Why would I continue to believe you intended to honor our engagement?”

 

A ripple of murmured agreement flowed through the onlookers and Stannis saw several nods of understanding as Sansa continued to speak.  

 

“We were stranded on an island with no hope of rescue.  There was no intended disrespect on Stannis’ part, and I demand that you behave as a gentleman and call off this spectacle at once!”

 

“I’ll not be told what is proper by a fallen woman!”  Joffrey snapped, causing Stannis to tense and take a step toward him as both Ned and Naharis moved between them to intervene.  He could manage to tolerate Joffrey’s personal insults, but when it came to insulting Sansa, Stannis wanted to strangle the disrespectful little goat!

 

The crowd grew restless, sensing the rising tension between the two participants.  Men shuffled position trying to get a better look, and some murmured chants of  _ fight, fight, fight _ .

 

It was then that another figure appeared unexpectedly on the bridge above, the acting Captain of the Fury.

 

“Stand down, all of you!  That’s an order!”

 

All eyes instantly fixed upon Captain Massey, who, despite his strong words looked a bit uncomfortable in his role as the ultimate authority, especially in Stannis’ presence.

 

“Please,” he continued, making eye contact with Stannis.  “There will be no duel while we are at sea. It is much too dangerous with gunpowder in the hold and the risk of fire.  I will not allow it. Your quarrel will keep until we make port.” Then, addressing the crew, he added, “All you men, return to your duties at once!”

 

Just in case anyone was thinking of disobeying his command, several higher ranking officers appeared at his side and studied the crowd carefully.  There was much grumbling from the onlookers, having been deprived of their morning’s entertainment, but most slowly shuffled off to their duty stations.

 

“Swords then!” Joffrey shouted at Massey in desperation.

 

“No fighting of any kind!”  Massey returned, glaring at Joffrey.  “I’ll not have a personal dispute disrupting my ship!  I’ll hear no more about it!” He turned on his heel and marched off.

 

Stannis had pulled back from his fighting stance, and glanced up to look for Sansa, but she had already gone.  He was thankful for that. He didn’t want her to face Joffrey’s harassment any longer. Ned turned to face him and spoke softly, his back to Joffrey so only Stannis could hear.

 

“This is Robert’s doing, I think.”

 

Stannis’ eyes widened, but he said nothing.  Perhaps Ned was right. Robert was nowhere to be seen, but Massey seldom made a move without his approval.  Did his brother regret his decision to allow this death match between his blood kin after all?

 

“This isn’t over!”

 

Joffrey had pushed past Ned to address Stannis.  His face was red with anger.

 

“We will meet again when we reach Sothoryos,” he snarled.  

 

“I believe your hand should be healed by then,” Stannis scoffed.  “I don’t think the public will take it well if you were to offer a second excuse not to fight.”

 

“That may be.  Then again, anything could happen between here and port.  Only the gods can say.” Joffrey replied cryptically, glancing pointedly at a few Stormcrows, who were standing around restlessly, observing the conversation from a short distance away.

 

“Are you threatening me?”  Stannis asked, his voice rising as his eyes narrowed.

 

“We should return to quarters,” Ned suggested, putting a hand on Stannis’ shoulder.  “We haven’t broken our fast this morning and I think this conversation is best left for another time.  Shall we?”

 

With a strong tug on the arm from Ned, Stannis allowed himself to be led away, knowing that if he struck his nephew, it would most likely start a brawl and that could get out of hand.   He glanced over his shoulder to see Joffrey surrounded by the sellswords, and he had a sickening feeling they would not reach Sothoryos peacefully.

 

For now though, his feud with the boy could wait, his most pressing duty was to attend to Sansa.  If only she would forgive him. 

 

~~~

 

“May I speak to Sansa?” Stannis asked, removing his hat as he entered the cabin.  Ned stood tactfully outside, as Catelyn confronted Stannis immediately.

 

“If she wants to see you,” she said, glancing at her daughter who stood near the bed.  “That is entirely up to her.”

 

Stannis didn’t say anything but knew from the disapproving expression on her face, if it were up to Catelyn, the answer would be an emphatic, _ No _ .  He’d fallen from her good graces when he’d hurt her daughter.  He wondered what advice she’d given to Sansa regarding their disagreement.  He nodded his acknowledgement and glanced at Sansa, hoping he appeared appropriately remorseful.  He really needed to speak with her. He couldn’t bear the way they had parted.

 

“It’s quite all right, Mother,” Sansa replied softly.  “You may take your leave. I will speak with Stannis alone.”

 

Relief washed over him in a wave, as his heart thudded hopefully in his chest.  This was progress at least! Catelyn obeyed, and after another disparaging gaze at Stannis, stepped outside with Ned.

 

“Thank you for seeing me,” Stannis began, feeling awkward now that they were alone.  He hung up his hat, which he’d been holding in his hands in front of him like a bashful schoolboy.  “And thank you for coming this morning. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

 

Sansa stiffened and he immediately sensed he’d said the wrong thing.

 

“Don’t thank me,” she snapped, and he could hear the anguish in her voice.  “I did it out of desperation, not kindness! I couldn’t bear the idea of you being alone if─” 

 

Her voice gave out.  Stannis ignored her body language and rushed to her side, gathering her into his arms.  He realized then what it must have taken for her to appear so strong in public when she was falling apart inside.  To his relief she did not try to pull away, but surrendered to his embrace at once. He could feel her tremble as she pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to muffle her sobs.  He gently rubbed her back to soothe her as he spoke softly against her ear.

 

“Sansa, please do not dwell on the worst imaginable outcome.  I’m not going to leave you. We will think of a solution together, just as we did on the island.”

 

Sansa slowly lifted her head.  As he met her gaze, he could see hope, mixed with a love so immense that he still found it overwhelming, residing within her beautiful, sea-colored eyes.

 

“You mean that you will respect my wishes and refuse this ridiculous challenge?”  She asked, the last shreds of anger fading as she sniffed back her remaining tears.

 

“I’ll have you know that I always respect your wishes,” Stannis replied, chancing a slight smile.  

 

It felt so good holding her close, that he wanted nothing more than to kiss the drying tears from her rose-colored cheeks, but he wanted to reassure her before he became too distracted.  

 

“It may not be that simple, though Massey’s intervention will give us time to find another way to settle this matter.  Joffrey will not hurt us. I promise you that.”

 

Stannis was delighted when she answered his proclamation not with words, but with a heated kiss, pressing her full lips soundly against his.  

 

“I may be persuaded to forgive you,” She paused long enough to whisper, before pressing her body more closely against his and kissing him again. “If you ask me nicely.”

 

This brought a rush of heat to his face and more intimate areas, which caused him to wish desperately that they were in their own cabin and not that of her parents.

 

“I will do  _ anything _ to be returned to your good graces,” he replied softly, his voice audibly deepening with desire.  “Anything at all.”

 

At that moment, there came a knock on the door, interrupting any chance of learning what Sansa might wish to request in the way of  _ restitution _ .  

 

Ned entered, along with Catelyn, who quickly took stock of the situation and raised an eyebrow at Stannis.  With his arm around Sansa, and an obvious blush on his face, he knew that Sansa’s mother had realized that her daughter had forgiven him, and most likely had a good idea what they’d been up to before her parents had entered.

 

“I presume you’ll be returning to your own quarters tonight?” She asked of Sansa, with a playful twinkle in her eye.  “Your father will be pleased that he won’t have to bunk in the spare officer’s quarters again.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Ned quickly interjected.

 

“Yes, Mother,” Sansa replied flatly, obviously not amused by Catelyn’s teasing.  “Stannis and I will be taking our leave now.”

 

“Stannis,” Ned said, taking him aside.  “I think it’s best if you and Sansa keep a low profile until we reach Sothoryos.  I’ll have dinner sent to your quarters and arrange for a guard as well.”

 

“Do you not think that is an overreaction?” Stannis answered, irritation rising in his voice.  “Surely Joffrey isn’t that much of a threat. I refuse to hide from him like a coward.”

 

“I know you can handle yourself,” Ned countered.  “But, think of Sansa ─ and the child. Please be cautious for their sakes.”

 

At the mention of her condition, Sansa looked from Ned to Stannis, her eyes widening in surprise.  Ned smiled warmly and held out his arms as Sansa fell into them, hugging him tightly.

 

“You know!” she exclaimed.

 

“Yes, Stannis told me the good news this morning.  I’m happy for you both.”

 

When they parted he turned back to Stannis.

 

“So you will consider my advice?”

 

Stannis reluctantly nodded.  He knew Ned was right. He had a growing family of his own to care for now, and it was in their best interests for him to take precautions.

 

“I will allow you to post a guard.  Thank you again.”

 

As he and Sansa said their goodbyes and stepped into the corridor, Stannis decided that despite making him feel foolish, there were worse things than being confined to a cabin with Sansa.  He would have ample time to make amends. Thoughts of how this might be accomplished brought a surge of heat up the back of his neck and to his face. Suddenly his uniform collar seemed a bit too tight, and he couldn’t wait to take off his jacket.  Upon further consideration, this wasn’t going to be much of a hardship at all.


	25. Making Amends

 

Sansa held Stannis’ hand as she led him into the cabin, only letting him loose so he could close the door after acknowledging the guard outside.

 

“My wife wishes to rest.  See to it that we are not disturbed,” Stannis ordered, his tone alerting the man that there would be consequences if he were to fail in his duty and allow an interruption.

 

When Stannis turned, he was immediately confronted by Sansa’s delightfully wicked smile.  He couldn’t help but smile in response. He had to admit it pleased him to see that her mood had lifted.

 

“Does our current situation amuse you?”  He asked, drawing her close. He had an idea what she was thinking, a very detailed idea, but he wanted to hear her tell him.

 

“You are safe and sound.  We have a guard. Joffrey can’t threaten either of us.  We are confined here, together, for the remainder of the voyage.  Why shouldn’t I be happy?”

 

Sansa began to carefully undo the brass buttons of his uniform jacket.

 

“I seem to remember another voyage, when you inquired of my officers how one might pass the time at sea.  I thought you might be bored,” Stannis teased, a twinkle in his eyes.

 

“That was ages ago,” she replied.  “Before I discovered that the stuffy Captain Baratheon wasn’t stuffy at all.”

 

“Is that so?” Stannis asked as Sansa removed his coat.

 

“Indeed,” she answered, raising an eyebrow as he began to unlace her bodice.  “I am quite certain we will find many interesting ways in which to occupy our remaining days aboard ship ─ if we put our minds to it.”

 

Stannis helped Sansa out of her dress so that she stood before him wearing only her underclothes. He found her beauty overwhelming to his senses. Stannis allowed his eyes to roam over her body at a leisurely pace, his desire for her increasing by the second.  His fingers followed where his eyes led, over the firm mounds of her breasts. Her thimble-sized nipples tented the thin fabric of her chemise, tempting him to rake them with his thumbs as they stiffened in response. Sansa murmured her delight, leaning into his touch, encouraging him to continue.

 

“I would advise that we apply more than just our minds,” he whispered, his throat suddenly dry as the blood rushed to his groin.  “For any endeavor to be successful, it requires one to commit oneself ─ _body_ and mind.”

 

After giving Sansa’s chest the thorough consideration it deserved, Stannis’ hands continued down the sleek line of her waist and caressed the gentle swell of her hips.  Her body still gave no clear indication that she was with child, but the knowledge that she carried the fruit of his seed deep within her lower belly made him love and want her even more.  He became aware that his breeches were becoming uncomfortably tight between his legs, even as Sansa began to toy with the laces.

 

“Mmmmm,” Sansa purred when his lips found her neck and slowly blazed a trail upward and along her jawline.  She gasped, eyes widening as his fingers teased up her skirt, tracing the smooth length of her thigh and then demanding entrance between her legs.  She immediately adjusted her stance to accommodate them.  

 

“I am prepared to fully commit, if you are,” she replied eagerly, her voice thick with desire.

 

“I am,” he answered with a husky growl.  “Let me show you.”

 

Stannis studied Sansa’s face, her eyes blissfully closing as he methodically massaged each layer and seam of her slickened entrance.  He could feel the heat of her arousal rising with every measured stroke, her lips parting as his steady fingers milked soft sounds of pleasure from her throat.  He continued to explore her thoroughly, ignoring the distraction of her own hands working at the front of his breeches, rubbing the bulge of his growing erection.   Aware of just how traumatic the morning’s events had been for his bride, he wanted to make her trust him again. He wanted to earn her forgiveness by giving her the full measure of his love.

 

Stannis withdrew his hand, which brought a frustrated pout to Sansa’s face.  His cock throbbed with lust when she bit her lip seductively and replaced the void his fingers had left with her own. He nearly came right then when Sansa began to touch herself, but again he dismissed his own need and focused his attention on his partner.

 

“Patience,” he whispered leading Sansa to their bed and removing the last of her clothing.  She playfully tugged at his blouse as he positioned her at the foot of the bed, hips seated on a pillow near the edge, and knelt between her legs.  A knowing smile graced her lips, and he understood he had her enthusiastic approval as she lay back and sighed contentedly, awaiting his attention.

 

Stannis did not tease, but began to pleasure Sansa immediately, using his tongue to travel the same path that his fingers had so recently wandered.  Sansa uttered his name in a garbled moan as her hips rose to meet his mouth, her legs clamping tightly around his sides to hold him in place. Soon her body was undulating in a rapidly increasing rhythm, as his tongue caressed her labia and then plunged inside, filling her with the wet heat that she craved.  His fingers were busy stroking her as well, causing a needy whine each time they raked across her fully aroused clitoris. The way her body responded to his touch brought him immense satisfaction, much like a conductor drawing forth each soaring note from a symphony orchestra. Sansa’s hands cupped his head, her nails grasping his scalp with greater and greater urgency as her orgasm edged closer.  Finally, her back arched and she tensed, chanting his name as he held her tightly through the tremors that followed, heart swelling with pride that he had brought her to such a state of ecstasy.

 

Slowly, Sansa relaxed as he continued to watch her, meeting his gaze as if suddenly aware of his presence.  She smiled contentedly, but there was a playful twinkle in her eyes as she shifted her position on the bed, moving back to lie on its full length, unrolling herself like a spool of elegant silk cloth.  Her brow was damp and her skin rosy from exertion, her lips red and swollen from her biting them in the heat of passion. Stannis wanted nothing more than to ravish her right then and there, but he paused and waited for her invitation.  He didn’t wait long, for Sansa was clearly eager for more as she patted the empty bed close by her side.

 

“Care to join me?” she implored in a sultry voice.  

 

Stannis quickly shed his remaining clothes and practically lept into the narrow bunk, the ancient wood creaking in protest as he joined his wife.  He wasted no time, kissing her deeply while covering her naked body with his own. Sansa’s legs parted, welcoming him as they joined in an intimate embrace.  Stannis groaned as he embedded his aching member inside her velvet passage and began to thrust, her recent orgasm providing more than enough lubrication. He immediately established a rhythm far too fast for him to last very long, but his need had possessed him fully, causing his heart to pound and his temples throb.  What little restraint he’d maintained few minutes earlier was lost when Sansa’s hands gripped his ass as she undulated her hips to meet his staccato thrusts.

 

“Oh. Oh. Oh-oh Stannis!” she moaned, clearly on the verge of another climax.

 

He peaked then, the inevitable rush of his release like the force of a tidal wave crashing down upon a ship, causing him to hold fast and ride it out.  He lost track of time as his vision became a haze of colors. When the semblance of control began to return, he was still inside Sansa, his arms tense as he hovered over her, carefully preventing himself from bestowing his full weight upon her.  He had the impression that he’d made some embarrassing sounds, but she took no notice as she clung tightly to him. He would have to see that the guard was well compensated for his discretion. Taking a deep breath, he eased onto his side, his body grateful to relax at last.  He held Sansa close, and as he stroked her hair she smiled at him.

 

“That was a good start,” she whispered, her fingers tracing circles through the damp hair on his chest.

 

“A good start at what?” he asked, confused.  Did she expect him to service her again so soon?

 

“Making amends,” she answered, her expression indicating that the wrong reply would risk another argument.  Indeed, even though making amends had proved to be delightful, he did not wish to have another argument. He only hoped that due to factors beyond his control, he wasn’t forced to hurt Sansa again.  At least she had forgiven him it seemed, and for that he was grateful.

 

~~~

 

Stannis and Sansa had managed to make it out of bed and were properly dressed when Ned and Catelyn arrived bearing a tray of food.  Sansa greeted them at the door, just as eager to receive any news of what was happening on the ship as ship as she was to dine. Though she knew it was foolish, she still harbored some slight hope that Robert might intercede and prevent Joffrey from provoking any further attacks against herself and Stannis.

 

“Have you spoken to Robert?” she asked, as soon as her parents had taken seats.

 

She could tell from her father’s expression that the news wasn’t good.

 

“Alas, he has refused to see anyone,” Ned answered.  “He hasn’t set foot out of his cabin today. I think he means to pretend that the entire situation will go away if he does nothing to address it.”

 

“Robert’s ability to avoid making a decision is the stuff of legends,” Stannis replied, earning a laugh from the others, save for Sansa.

 

“I wish I could make light of it, but his inaction continues to place our lives in danger,” she remarked, frowning.

 

“I wasn’t making light of it,” Stannis said, squeezing her hand.  “Robert is in the best position to put a stop to Joffrey’s nonsense but it is quite like him to defer any controversial decisions and thereby escape any consequences.  I was merely stating a fact, and warning you not to place your hopes on his support.”

 

Ned sighed, glancing from Sansa to Stannis.

 

“I agree with Stannis on this point.  Robert has always limited himself to that which is most politically expedient.  Joffrey’s actions, along with your decision to marry Stannis─” he held up his hand to ward off Sansa’s immediate protest.  “─I’m not saying you were wrong, only that from Robert’s perspective it was an inconvenient bit of news.”

 

Sansa bit her lip and narrowed her eyes in irritation, but held her tongue as her father got to the point.

 

“Though I’m certain it was Robert’s doing that caused Massey to intervene this morning, I don’t expect his continued assistance.  I’m afraid we must think of a solution for Joffrey ourselves, one that doesn’t entail discipline from his father.”

 

“I can think of several solutions,” Stannis snorted.  “None of which would be considered legal.”

 

“Stop it, both of you!” Sansa snapped, her exasperation at the breaking point.  

 

She loved her husband dearly, but she knew how stubborn and proud he could be.  If it were up to Stannis, he would hunt down Joffrey that very moment and throw him overboard, oblivious to the sellswords standing ready to prevent him.  She needed to be the voice of reason that prevailed upon him to keep his temper in check. 

 

“There is little use in talking about what we cannot, or what Robert will not, do.  Let us put our minds to thinking of a plan that will work.”

 

“Do you have any ideas?” Catelyn responded, her expression grim.  “I’m not sure we can do more than we already are, keeping the two of you out of harm’s way.”

 

Sansa was about to answer when there was a knock at the door.  In walked Robb, followed closely by the guard who cast a questioning look at Stannis, ready to toss out the intruder should his Captain give the order.

 

“It is quite alright, ensign.  Return to your watch,” Stannis instructed with an assertive dismissal of the man’s salute.

 

“Do you have news?” Ned asked, as soon as the guard had left.  Sansa wondered the same, noting the anxious expression on her brother’s face.

 

“Nothing specific,” Robb replied.  “Just an uneasy feeling about Joffrey’s behavior.  He’s drinking more than usual and I’ve seen him conspiring with several Stormcrows.  Confrontations between Stormcrows and the crew are becoming more common.”

 

“Do you think he’s planning some type of mutiny?” Sansa asked, alarmed by the news.

 

“Let him try!” Stannis snapped. “My crew are trained military men.  A band of sellswords is no match for them.”

 

“Under normal conditions, with you as acting Captain, I would agree,” Robb said, before turning to stare out the portal.

 

Sansa studied her brother carefully, unsettled by his cryptic remark.  She felt he was keeping something from them. Apparently, her father suspected the same, for he questioned Robb before she had the chance.

 

“None of this makes any sense,” Ned replied, his brow furrowed.  “Any attempt to take over the Fury would be a war against Robert.  Why would Joffrey go against his father merely for the sake of besting Stannis?  He could simply bide his time and take his revenge at any point in the future, in any number of ways.”

 

“The boy isn’t that resourceful,” Stannis scoffed. “You give him too much credit.”

 

“Here me out,” Ned continued.  “My point is, that Robert’s success is Joffrey’s only source of wealth.  He wouldn’t dare risk his livelihood or his inheritance for a fight over a woman, unless there is something more you aren’t telling us.  What is it, Son? What do you know?”

 

Robb hesitated, continuing to stare at the sea as if seeking reassurance.  Finally, he turned to face them and took a deep breath. He seemed uneasy, pacing about like a hungry cat waiting for its dinner.

 

“First of all,” he began, nervously clearing his throat.  “I don’t _know_ anything.  It’s all rumor and supposition.  Joffrey says many things when drunk, most of them are probably falsehoods.  He won’t speak to me now that Stannis and Sansa are wed. As Stannis’ brother by marriage, he no longer trusts me.  Even if I wanted to gather more information to confirm my suspicions, I could not.”

 

“Duly noted,” Ned said with an encouraging nod of his head.  “Go on.”

 

“When we were in Braavos, nearly two years ago; that is where the incident happened, when the rumors about Joffrey’s violent behavior first began to spread.  I didn’t see it with my own eyes, but knew it was odd when our trip was cut short and one of Robert’s ships arrived to whisk us away. Suddenly, we had orders to make for Sothoryos, to establish a trade route to the colony there.”

 

“What was the incident?”  Sansa interrupted, expecting the worst, and appalled that she almost married such a monster.  “Please tell me.”

 

Robb looked to Stannis, who nodded his approval for him to continue.

 

“He became involved with a young woman ─ the rumors say that he became too rough and…” he paused, searching for the proper words.  “I don’t know the details but she ended up dead. They found her body in one of the canals in the morning.”

 

“I’m sure she wasn’t the first woman of ill repute that Joffrey harmed,” Stannis commented, taking Sansa’s hand.  She was grateful for his support, giving his hand a squeeze to let him know she was all right despite the disturbing story. “I’ll wager that nothing could be proven against him.”

 

“Ah, but this is the thing,” Robb added, meeting Stannis’ gaze.  “She was no whore. She was the daughter of a powerful Braavosi official, the Secretary of Commerce.  Joffrey was the last man she was with, and one of his sellswords was seen in the vicinity where the body was found.  All of that, along with his reputation, and her father doesn’t require further proof.”

 

Sansa’s eyes widened and she heard Catelyn let out a gasp of surprise as Robb studied the faces of his audience, letting the news sink in.

 

“I’m not saying Joffrey is guilty,” Robb added hastily, before hanging his head, his lips pressed in a tight line as if he had resigned himself to accept an unwelcome truth. “Though I’ll admit I used to give him the benefit of the doubt, I’ve come to realize that he is indeed capable of such an act.”

 

“And to think I almost let that fiend marry my daughter!”  Catelyn growled, stating what Sansa had been thinking. She stood and put a protective hand on Sansa’s shoulder.

 

“He had all of us fooled at one time or another,” Sansa interjected, offering her mother a wane smile and patting her hand.

 

“So, Robert paid everyone off and had Joffrey sent to Sothoryos.  Why would any of this bother Joffrey now?” Catelyn asked, scowling with distaste for the whole sordid affair.  “Didn’t he get away with it as usual?”

 

“That’s what I thought until we set sail to search for Sansa and Stannis,” Robb continued.  “Joffrey’s drinking was getting worse until one night he confided in me. He said that the Braavosi official is demanding that the King hand Joffrey over for trial.  Normally, the King would have no reason to surrender a Westerosi citizen to a Braavosi court, especially one from a wealthy family. However, the King is in the midst of negotiating an important trade deal with Braavos─”

 

“─which requires the cooperation of the Braavosi Secretary of Commerce,” Ned finished, his eyes widening in understanding.”

 

“If this is all true,” Stannis added, coming to his feet and addressing Ned.  “Then Robert lied when he told us that it was the King’s wish that Joffrey marry Sansa in order to strengthen ties with the North.”

 

“Yes,” Ned agreed, his eyes narrowing.  “It must have been Robert’s idea to placate the King by marrying Joffrey to a respectable Northern family, and then sending him far off to live in the hopes that the whole mess would go away.”

 

“But, when it doesn’t go away, Robert will be forced to turn Joffrey over to Braavos, if the King so commands,” Stannis concluded.

 

Ned nodded, seemingly dumbstruck by this surprising information and the fact that his good friend had not chosen to confide in him.

 

Sansa’s heart fell, as she rose from her chair, her body tensing as she began to understand the true extent of the danger.

 

“Joffrey has nothing to lose, and everything to gain by taking the Fury.  He thinks he can escape justice!” She cried, fear constricting her throat. 

 

“Calm down,” Stannis instructed, gathering her in his arms to soothe her.  “What you say is true, and yet Joffrey does not have the means to take the Fury.  As I said before, my men are trained in combat, they will not be defeated by a paper tyrant and his band of sellswords.”

 

Safe within the comforting embrace of Stannis’ strong arms, some of the tension drained from Sansa’s shoulders until she heard Robb’s voice speak softly, almost apologetically, behind her.

 

“I beg your pardon, but I fear that you are forgetting about the pirates.  Joffrey could buy their loyalty as well. If he were to free them, and they were to join with the Stormcrows, then…” he left the rest to their imagination.

 

“Even Robert would draw the line at mutiny,” Stannis argued.  “He and Massey will put a stop to it. We will inform them of our suspicions at once.”

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about Robert’s support,” Ned replied, his tone measured but firm.  “Sadly, all he need do is to stay the course he has set and avoid the situation. Joffrey need not confront him if he offers no resistance.  Without Robert’s guidance, Massey may hesitate just long enough to lose the ship.”

 

“I refuse to accept─” Stannis protested before being cut off by the sound of the ships bell clanging the alarm.

 

Just as suddenly, shouts of _Fire!_ could be heard, along with the heavy pounding of men running across the deck and doors slamming as others scrambled forth from their quarters.

 

“Bloody hell!” Ned shouted, listening to the din for a moment before turning to Robb.  “You stay here with the women, Stannis and I will go find out what is happening,” he commanded in a sharp and steady voice.

 

“No!” Sansa cried, grabbing hold of Stannis’ arm.  “It could be a trap! Don’t go.”

 

“I must,” Stannis countered, his jaw tense with determination. The focus in his eyes told her that he would not be swayed. “Whether it is a trap or a true emergency, I need to see to the safety of my men and my ship.  It is the only way to assure your own safety. Remain here with Robb and I will return as soon as I am able. I promise.”

 

Stannis gave Sansa a quick kiss on the lips and broke free of her grasp.  Stannis and Ned were out the door, joining the stream of seamen rushing by, before Sansa could prevent it.  Robb quickly stepped forward to stop her from following. She stared helplessly at the closed door, as if she could see what was happening on the other side by sheer power of will.  Tears welled in her eyes as Catelyn offered her open arms. Sansa accepted her mother’s hug gratefully, trying not to allow her worst fears to cause her to panic. She had to believe that Stannis would be fine.  They would survive whatever fate, or Joffrey, threw in their path. They had survived so much adversity thus far, she had to believe their good fortune would continue. For now she could only wait, and hope.

 


End file.
